Scraps
by purrpickle
Summary: Pezberry drabbles and short stories, all one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I do not own Glee nor the characters within. This is a collection of 100 word Pezberry drabbles that got away from me and screamed and wiggled out of my grip (okay, not anymore – some were intended as drabbles from the beginning). So they're more than 100 words, but prolly not gonna be more than 1,000 (yes, in my head scraps are bigger than pieces). So it doesn't really make sense to post them all separately (though realistically I'd prolly get more reviews doing it that way - however, that's not why I write, so *shrug*). Again, these are going to be random, many different genres, and in different universes unless stated. Also, I'm not sure how often this one will be updated.

I feel like I'm in a land of perpetual Pezberry drabbledom. Honestly, it's the only thing I'm capable of writing currently, as I'm fighting against a medication that strips me of the will to write, and of inspiration. But I don't _want _to stop writing. I _want _to fight through this. And I know that if I keep at it, I can get myself to a place where I can get back to my normal ease.

* * *

Santana loved the snow. Scooping up some of the newly fallen fluff, perfect for packing, she readied, aimed, and threw.

Karofsky, who had Rachel cornered on the other side of the quad, jerked from the impact of the snowball that smacked into the back of his head. Whirling around, he looked for the perpetrator, but since Santana was calmly talking to Brittany, he passed her over. Then, as soon as he turned back to Rachel, Santana pitched another perfect hit. Again, he spun around, and again Santana was talking to Brittany.

After repeating this cycle a couple more times, the jock finally got tired of being beaned in the head, and Santana watched in satisfaction as he stalked off, leaving Rachel alone. What didn't make her happy, however, was that Rachel was now striding purposefully towards her.

"Are you a member of the softball team?" Rachel called out as she stopped five feet in front of Santana, "Because you probably should be."

Santana coolly met Rachel's gaze. "I have no idea what you're talking about, _Smurf_. Are you talking crazy again? Should probably go and find some meds for that. So…" she made a shooing motion with her hand, "Git."

Instead of getting annoyed like she had hoped, Rachel closed her eyes and smiled, shaking her head to herself. She then opened her eyes, gave Santana a warm look, and walked away, throwing, "Thank you anyways, Santana," over her shoulder.

Santana growled, crossing her arms, glaring at Rachel's back.

"S?" Brittany asked, moving in close behind her.

"Oh, it's nothing, B." Shaking her head, Santana drew the blonde away, leading her inside before the bell could ring, "Just the midget being her usual pathetic self. That's all. Now, did you get your books from your locker yet?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: ***shrug* Ambivalent about this one.

* * *

Mr. Schuester was in the middle of explaining their new song when Santana took Rachel's hand.

No one noticed at first, neither of the two girls making any other moves or changing expressions. Then, as Mr. Schue swept his gaze around the room to make sure he had everyone's attention, he paused. It wasn't for very long, but it was noticeable enough that Artie and Quinn looked over to see what he was staring at.

Jaw dropping open, Artie nudged Tina, while Quinn smiled before quickly covering it up in case anyone was looking.

Tina's shaking head and looking again to make sure what she was seeing was real caught Kurt's eye. His dramatic shocked gasp alerted Finn, Puck, and Mercedes, while Santana and Rachel's stiffening reaction attracted Brittany. "Did you guys see the duck?" she asked.

"No, Britt," Rachel shook her head, shooting the blonde an affectionate smile.

"Oh. It must be hungry by now…" Sitting back, Brittany furrowed her brow.

Even though he had started talking again, it was obvious to Mr. Schue after three minutes that no one was paying attention to him. "Guys," he cleared his throat, placing his hands on his hips, "I would appreciate having your attention up here. This song is technically difficult, and to get best results, please, listen."

"Sir, no offense meant, but who can listen when something so shocking like _that _is happening?" Kurt threw out, waving his hand at the two girls on the level below him. Everyone other than Brittany, Quinn, Santana, and Rachel nodded along with him.

Rachel opened her mouth, but Santana stopped her. "No, Rachel, we don't have anything we have to explain to them." Standing up and turning to glare pointedly at everyone, tilting her head to include Mr. Schue, then looking back, Santana crossed her arms, "Listen up, everybody. There is no reason to get up in our business. You will _not _bother us. You will not_ speak _about us, you will not even _think _about us, and you will not _stare _at us like the evolutionary throwbacks you are imitating. But most of all, you will not _spread_ _rumors_ about us. If any of you do, I will systematically work my way through glee club until I find out who it was, and I will _destroy you_." Voice dropping until it hit a negative register, Santana gave them the coldest stare they had ever seen. Then, seemingly satisfied at what their return expressions were, she turned neatly and sat down again, sliding her arm around Rachel's waist, pulling her close.

Rachel stared at her, then smiled broadly.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**I don't know where my ideas come from anymore. Also, this one's bigger than 1,000 words. Hah hah...

* * *

Rachel had been getting weird stares all day long. While used to a degree of odd looks and laughter after having been the school freak for more years than she cared to remember, the sheer amount of attention she was getting had started to concern her by third period.

When Santana came stomping up to her at the beginning of lunch, the cheerleader was almost breathing fire. Clenching her hand around one of Rachel's wrists, she dragged her into the nearest bathroom. Turning her glare onto the occupants of the room, they all quickly dispersed, leaving Rachel to watch as Santana pushed a button on her phone, waited a second, then barked out, "Q, you better get Brittany over here _now_, or your ass is _mine_. …Fucking figure it out yourself!" Growling, Santana ended the call, and Rachel suddenly found herself on the end of a full-blown HBIC glare.

"Rachel…" Santana's voice dripped with forced calmness, anger seething around and through the words, "Did you even_ look_… In the _mirror_ this morning…?"

Rachel frowned, not appreciating the remark at all. "Of _course _I did, Santana. It's an integral part of my morning routine, as I make sure that I look respectable at all times in case an agent comes to – "

Santana slamming her palm on the wall near Rachel's head made her snap her mouth shut. "Well, _Rachel_, you obviously didn't look _hard _enough."

Taking a deep breath, Rachel licked her lips. "Santana," she started again, honestly put off by the expression on the other girl's face, as well as feeling a little insulted by her statement, "This violence is not called for. It is obvious to me that you are overreacting, and you should calm down before your stress levels rise too far or you hurt yourself."

Santana stared incredulously at her. "'Overreacting,' she says," she mocked almost to herself, "_Overreacting_. Okay, _that_'_s it_!" Wrapping her hands around Rachel's waist before she could react, Santana, in strength obviously fueled by overflowing rage, hoisted Rachel up and turned to deposit her on the bathroom counter. Her hands gripped and slid down the girl's bare legs to accomplish this, though it was made all the harder when Rachel started trying to get away and stop what was happening.

All the while squawking and spitting out rapid fire protestations, Santana grunting and yelling at her to _stop fucking moving_, Rachel finally overbalanced and had to catch herself with her palms against the mirror; Santana shoved her feet onto the counter a second later and let go. "_You_, you will not jump off or I shall do this _all _over again, and believe you me, I have the energy to continue doing so. You do not."

Before Rachel could respond, the door opened and Quinn and Brittany appeared. Both girls stopped and stared at Rachel, though each had different expressions. Rachel would have normally blushed at the attention, but she was too angry at the moment to even _conceive _of the idea of embarrassment.

"_S_!" Quinn all but yelled, stomping over to the other cheerleader that was currently watching with a stony face as Brittany wandered over to get a closer look at Rachel, "_What the _- _the heck_? You… You didn't have to do _that_! Rachel's a _dancer_. She can see it without giving Brittany a free show!"

At those words, Rachel squeaked and realized it was true, taking a step back until she hit the mirror. "See what?" she demanded.

When neither Santana nor Quinn seemed willing to tell her, Rachel firmed her jaw. "I will _not _continue standing up here until someone tells me what's going on. I am getting down, _now_." Crouching down a little and trying to decide how she was going to accomplish what she threatened with the least amount of area her naked hands would have to touch, Rachel almost toppled over when Brittany's fingers suddenly traced over the back of her thigh.

"_Brittany_! That is _not _an appropriate touch, and I do not appreciate – !"

"Hey, it's still here!" Sounding inordinately pleased with herself, the tall blonde once again petted Rachel's thigh.

"_Yes_," Santana's voice spoke witheringly, "It's still there."

"What?" Getting confused again and sure she was missing something, Rachel pushed Brittany's hand away and stood again, shuffling away from the edge. Turning slightly perpendicular to the mirror, she craned her head to see if she could see anything.

Quinn's quiet muttering was suddenly eclipsed by the ear shattering "_WHAT_!" that bounced and filled up the room, echoing several times. "What – but – you – _Brittany_! Why?_ When_?" Jumping down, Rachel crossed her arms, happy to concentrate on anger rather than mortification.

"Uhm…" Brittany tilted her head, thinking, "I don't remember."

"I do." Santana's voice was still low and edged with anger, but she looked more tired than anything else. "Rachel, remember how you fell asleep in front of the TV on Saturday? Wearing those pajamas with the shorts? And remember how we couldn't stop giggling when you woke up?"

Red had started creeping up Rachel's neck, flowing over her face. "Ohh my goodness…" she moaned, burying her head into her hands, "No _wonder _everyone was _staring _at me all day today."

Quinn snorted. "Yeah, no wonder." When Santana glared at her, she rolled her eyes but quieted.

"I… Are you mad at me?" Brittany's hesitant question cut through the furious mumbling Rachel had been doing.

Looking up, she paused, then shook her head, sighing. "No, Brittany, I'm not. After all, though you are the person directly responsible, Quinn and Santana are both culpable, as they both did not stop you _or_ inform me of what you had done. I would have thought my _girlfriend _and _best friend _would have known better."

Wincing at the pointed tone Rachel had used, Santana and Quinn avoided her gaze.

"Also, Santana," Rachel added, taking a step towards her girlfriend, Quinn taking the opportunity to slip away and join Brittany near the bathroom door, "While some amount of force is desirable and… Pleasurable at some times, this was certainly _not_ one of those times. I did _not _appreciate being treated like a Cave Woman, and especially not with no explanation."

Santana's jaw twitched, but she nodded, eyes still downcast.

"However." Rachel took a deep breath, and a small smile appeared on her face. Taking another step forward, she grabbed Santana's hand and urged her to look up, "You can make it up to me by helping me scrub off the permanent marker."

Santana searched her eyes, slow smile growing. "In the private Cheerios shower?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded, "The _private _shower."

"Now?"

"_Now_."

And pretty soon Quinn and Brittany were left alone, the door where a cheerleader and her girlfriend who had the phrases '_Santana wuz here :)_' and '_Santana wont let me here :(_' written on the back of her legs had walked through in a hurry, slammed shut with a bang.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel came back to her locker after lunch to find that someone had sprayed perfume all over it. The cloud of floral scent had been noticeable before she opened it, but she had just figured one of her neighbors had spritzed recently. But as she opened the door, the friction of the air caused the scent to wash over her. She swung the door back and forth a couple of times to make sure.

Spotting the likely culprit down the hall, she stalked determinedly towards her. "Santana! Why is your perfume all over my locker?"

"No hello?" the taller girl in question asked, eyebrow raised.

It looked like Rachel reined in a violent rolling of her eyes. "Fine. Hello."

"That's better." Santana grinned, pulling her girlfriend in for a sound kiss. "What? You don't like it?"

Rachel made a cross face, but leant up and kissed Santana again. Pulling back, she stamped one foot on the ground. "It's not that I don't _like _it. Makes me think of you, actually…" she had lowered her voice, looking up at Santana through her eyelashes, "But that's beside the point! It's a waste of money, and some of my neighbors could have asthma or allergies! I don't want anyone to presumably _die_ because of my girlfriend." Then, seeing the beginning of a frown settle onto Santana's lips, Rachel sighed and tugged her down so she could whisper into her ear, "As well as I much prefer to smell it on _you_." She kissed Santana's ear for good measure.

Santana shivered, sliding her arm around Rachel's waist to pull her in close, not letting her go. "Mmm… I can arrange that," she purred, putting a lingering kiss on Rachel's forehead.

Rachel's eyes dilated, but she quickly shook her head to center herself again. She smiled and trailed her fingers up Santana's bare arm, "Later. I promise."

Santana gave her a smoldering look. "Your house or mine?"

"Mine. My dads won't be home until late."

"Ohh." Shifting around so she could kiss Rachel properly again, Santana murmured against her lips, "You wanna be bad again?"

Rachel's hands clutched Santana's waist. "The… The couch?" she asked, swallowing.

"Mmm." Kissing along Rachel's jaw, leading up to her ear, Santana smiled. "The living room couch."

Her girlfriend gasped, though it had been obvious from the start. "But… You _know _what happened last time."

Santana's smile widened. "I do indeed." Pressing Rachel back against the lockers, she slid her hand around Rachel's head so she could hold her in place. "As I recall, you _enjoyed_ what happened.

"Oh, and Rachel?" she whispered into her ear, smiling as her girlfriend nodded, swallowing, then gasping when Santana nipped her earlobe, "Don't worry about the perfume. Won't stay long on metal." Then she pulled back, kissed Rachel quickly, winked at her, and strode off just as the bell rang.

Slumped back and propping herself against Santana's locker, Rachel stared at her girlfriend's departing back. Yes, Santana's perfume was much more enjoyable when experienced _that _way.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Not sure what this is or what to do with it, so dumping it here. Which is good, because this is the place for these things. Heh.

* * *

The day Rachel and Santana entered into a mutual arrangement was like any other. They'd been played by others for three months, alone for one, and it seemed like natural progression when without anyone looking at them at one of Puck's parties, they slipped into his mother's bedroom and used each other.

The day Rachel and Santana started dating was like any other. They'd been sleeping together for three months, hanging out for one, and it seemed like natural progression when without looking away from the TV where she was blasting Grunts, Santana asked if Rachel wanted to try out that dating shit.

The day Rachel found out she was in love with Santana was like any other. They'd been dating for three months, out for one, and it seemed like natural progression when without looking away from Santana as she smirked at her from across the room, Rachel's heart informed Rachel that she couldn't live without her.

The day Rachel found out Santana was in love with her was like any other. They'd been dating for six months, out for four, and it seemed like natural progression when without looking away from Quinn and Brittany feeding the ducks, Santana told Rachel it wasn't every day that Santana fucking Lopez fell for a freakishly short dwarf.

The day Rachel told Santana she was in love with her was like any other. They'd been dating for six months, out for four, and it seemed like natural progression when without looking away from Santana as she pretended to be unconcerned, Rachel told Santana it wasn't every day that young ingénue Rachel Barbra Berry fell in love with an infuriatingly rude hothead.

The day Rachel and Santana found out they loved each other was like any other. They'd been dating for six months, out for four, and it seemed like natural progression when without looking away to see who was around, Santana and Rachel became the two people in love that they were.


	6. Chapter 6

When Santana showed up to school with ugly green and purple bruises on the knuckles of her hands, snarling and glaring at everyone, no one really thought much of it. That is, until Rachel walked into Glee with raccoon eyes and the mother of all bruises stretching across her jaw. It was obvious she'd tried to cover up most of it with make up, but the black eyes were still unmistakable. Angry surprise and suspicion quickly filled the room, all of it centered on the one person who looked obviously guilty.

As soon as Santana entered with Brittany, all hell broke loose. Finn ran at her, shouting insults, while Mike and Sam struggled to keep Puck back from joining in. Dodging the clumsy lunge and sucker punching Finn in the stomach to get him to back off, Santana hissed and shook her hand. Puck, by that time, had gotten away from his would-be captors, roughly grabbing Santana's shoulder to swing her around. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he sure as hell wouldn't think anything of restraining one.

However, at his first touch, Santana whirled around, punching him solidly in the chest with the hand she hadn't used on Finn. Again, as Puck staggered back, she hissed and closed and opened her fist. Eyes flaming, she demanded to know what the hell was going on. In answer, as voices all spoke over each other, Rachel's shrill words getting lost in the noise as Quinn and Tina wouldn't let her run forward to get in the middle of the fight, Finn had recovered enough to lunge again. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got his hands on Santana, but he was seeing red enough that he wasn't thinking rationally.

Growling out in angry Spanish, Santana tensed to intercept the charge but was brought up short when Puck grabbed her elbow. Stumbling, his rough tug was enough to put her off balance. So when Finn's large frame came at her, her feint twisted her legs under her. The resulting fall wasn't graceful. Shrieking as Puck wasn't fast enough to catch her or let her arm go, the side of her head crashed into the instinctive fist Finn had formed as he tried to wrap his long arms around her. Santana's body crashed to the floor, her one arm barely managing to catch her while Puck dropped to one knee as her weight pulled him down. Finn stared down dumbly from above.

A high pitched scream cut through the yells from everyone, and utilizing strength born from panic, Rachel finally wrenched herself free and ran, skidding into a rather impressive dive to cradle Santana as she tried to struggle up. Repeating Santana's name frantically and kicking Puck's arm until he let go, the smaller girl watched with escalating fury as giant blooms of red erupted on Santana's face and wrist, blood dripping from the side of her mouth where she'd cut her cheek with her teeth.

When Finn made to pull Rachel away, it was Puck who stopped him. Staring at Rachel and Santana, he'd remembered a piece of locker room gossip he'd barely paid attention to after football practice: a known bully, Jonas "Jo Jo" Johnson, was out and suspended indefinitely due to something that landed him in the hospital with a broken jaw and cracked ribs. Dropping his head, he took off his shirt and handed it to Rachel, who glared at him but accepted it anyway, using it to dab at Santana's mouth. Santana, grunting and jerking her head away, managed to sit back and cross her legs, cradling her wrist in her lap, glaring at Finn and Puck as she did so.

Working her jaw a couple of times and satisfied with what she was feeling, Santana pushed Rachel's hand away and stood up. Stomping forward towards where Puck was still holding Finn back, Santana kicked Finn between the legs. As he fell, she pulled back and slugged Puck across the face. Then, with a triumphant expression on her face, she let Rachel accompany her to the nurse's office, the girl pressing close into her side with an arm around her waist. Behind them, they could hear Brittany's raised voice admonishing the Glee club, two male yelps, and the sound of her feet as she caught up with them. Santana bumped her shoulder in lieu of a high five.

* * *

**A/N: **I find the idea of Santana fighting (fisticuffing, if you like) for Rachel and getting hurt in the process _incredibly _sexy. Some of my favorite Pezberry stories were written because of a phenomenal prompt from AngelicSinner on the Pezberry livejournal that entails Rachel getting cornered and Santana rescuing her. Though this isn't a response to that prompt, I've been inspired by it ever since I read it. Good stuff.

Ah, and thanks to JackyKay, who was lovely to find the prompt for me, I can share it with all of you:

Santana finds Rachel being viciously bullied after school by a bunch of jocks, when suddenly their teasing turns sexually menacing and Santana storms in to 'save the day' and breaks one of the boys' jaws with a hockey/lacrosse stick/baseball bat. Rachel in turn threatens to press charges on all the boys to keep the one boy from charging the Cheerio with assault. After that Santana takes it upon herself to keep an eye out for littlest Gleek. Rachel, being the whimsical woman she is, always did have a soft spot for that whole 'white knight' cliché. Bonus points for Santana correcting her: "Hispanic Knight, Berry."

Epic, right?

Yes. I'm answering my own question. *grins*


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I had a horrible nightmare the night before last. I was Rachel, and Coach Tanaka was going around killing or turning everyone in McKinley High into zombies. Being very afraid of him, no one was doing anything to stop him. Well, I ended up killing him by pushing him out of a very high window, saving everyone by doing so. But, for the sole fact that I was _Rachel_, no one thanked me, everyone still hated me, and I was getting blamed for everything in the first place! _Just _because I was Rachel. *shakes her head* Of course, that discord opened the door for a demonic zombie girl to come and pose like she wanted to congratulate me, while plotting to inject me with the T-Virus and eat me for herself. That started a disgusting and anxious back and forth of us injecting each other and ourselves with the T-Virus and the antidote all the while I was pulling her apart, bone by bone. Of course, if that doesn't seem weird enough, I didn't even mention the fact that I had been dating Puck (who wouldn't admit we were dating - because, again, for the single fact that I was _Rachel_ - so we had to sneak around to make out), who the zombie girl somehow managed to turn into a dog, so I had been frantically trying to antidote him as well. I'd only managed to defeat her when my alarm woke me up, so for all I know, Puck's still a dog.

...I fear my psyche sometimes.

Anyways! While that's fresh in your mind, go ahead and read this very fluffy story I whipped up. It has nothing to do with the dream. I just needed to share the horror. You're welcome.

* * *

They celebrated their one month anniversary at a drive-in. While Rachel fully expected to _watch _the movie, cuddling up to Santana as much as she could as she did so, Santana had a whole 'nother idea entirely.

Spreading out the blanket she had brought over the back seat while Rachel had left to buy popcorn and something to drink, Santana was satisfied. She figured her girlfriend wouldn't let them go all the way – even if the windows were as tinted as they could be and no one could see in – but she _fully_ intended on reaching second base. What was the point of having a hot as hell girlfriend all to yourself and not being able to touch her?

When Rachel returned, she stopped, looking at the innocently smiling Santana waiting for her in the backseat. "San…" she started warningly, "How are we going to be able to see the screen from there?"

Santana's smile dimmed a bit, but she thought quickly. Scooting over to take the bag of popcorn out of Rachel's hands, she placed it safely on the floor of the car before reaching forward and finding the lever to push both of the front seats as far forward as she could. "There!" she said, a little proud, "Now we shouldn't have a problem."

Studying Santana's handiwork, Rachel chewed on her bottom lip. "Okay…" she relented, climbing in and shutting the door behind her. Setting the large drink into one of the cup holders, she smiled shyly at her girlfriend who was leaning forward to kiss her.

But, before Santana could slip her tongue into the warmth that waited for her behind Rachel's lips, the sudden loud crackle and blasting music from the car's stereo that signified the movie was beginning made the both of them jump and bang their teeth together.

"Ah!" "_Ow_!"

Running their tongues over their teeth to make sure they weren't bleeding, and making sure that the other wasn't hurt, either, the both of them eventually settled into as comfortable a position as they could get: Santana sitting against both the back of the seat and car door with one leg bent so her foot could rest against the car floor, Rachel fitting in between her legs and leaning back against her. Rachel got her cuddling, and Santana got to wrap her arms around Rachel's waist, feeling her breathe in and out.

She wouldn't admit it, but Santana smiled when Rachel hugged her arms and made a contented sound, relaxing her body completely. "You comfy?" she lowered her head to whisper in Rachel's ear, enjoying the shiver her warm breath blowing over cool skin caused.

"Mmhm," Rachel mumbled, then kissed her in thanks for the question before turning her attention back to the giant screen; from the sounds coming from the car speakers and the images that were showing, Santana surmised that the last trailer had ended and the movie itself was starting up.

* * *

The movie was okay. Entertaining enough, but most of Santana's attention was centered on the girl in her arms. Well, that and the fact that half of her back was weirdly falling asleep. Shifting a bit to stop the numbness from spreading, she frowned and grabbed Rachel's shoulders to stop her from getting up. "It's okay," she hissed quickly, trying to tug Rachel back down.

"No, it's fine, Santana," Rachel shook her head, scooting forward and turning so she now completely faced the front of the car, "Really."

Able to see the beginnings of a guilty expression crossing the smaller girl's face, Santana narrowed her eyes. Sitting up, she stretched a little to get the kinks out of her neck and back. Once done, she looked back at Rachel to make sure she was still in the right position. Then, tensing, she pounced.

With a breathy squeal, Rachel found herself suddenly sandwiched between Santana and the arm Santana was using to stop Rachel from hitting the car window, the dark form of her girlfriend pressing into her from above.

Sucking on Rachel's lower lip, Santana thrilled as small hands moved up her back, sliding over her shoulders and up her neck, tangling in her hair and – "Ahtatata-tah!" Arching her back to stop the pain as Rachel yanked her ponytail, she slid off of her so she could bring her hands up to her scalp. "What… the… _hell_?"

Rachel sat up, frowning at her. "I apologize for pulling your hair, but when we got here, I _told _you I fully intended on watching this movie."

Santana massaged her scalp, staring at Rachel in disbelief. "It's… It's _The Green Hornet_! They fight bad guys, something happens that makes them break up, and then miraculously through some sort of heroic crap, they're super friends again! Or something like that. It's a _comic book _movie. You already know how it's going to end."

One side of Rachel's mouth quirked up. "Super Friends is a different universe entirely. Now hush!" Scooting over and grabbing one of Santana's hands, she laced their fingers together in her lap, pulling Santana closer so she could lay her head on her shoulder. Santana sulked for a bit, muttering about "The geekness of her girlfriend," until Rachel raised her free hand to start gently petting her head.

A couple of minutes later, Santana grudgingly mumbled out, "That really is a cool car."

Rachel squeezed her hand.

* * *

By the end of the movie, they had migrated again. Santana had rediscovered the popcorn, and after managing to eat almost the whole thing in a twenty minute period, her stomach was a little upset at her. So it had been Rachel's turn to sit back against the car seat and car door, and she had pulled Santana with her. Lying on her back, head perfectly nestled at the apex of Rachel's thighs and bottom of her stomach, Santana almost purred at the wonderful feel of her girlfriend's soft hands running comfortingly through her hair and down her neck. It was even better that Rachel was doing it unconsciously, eyes still on the movie out of the windshield. Santana split her time between looking at the screen – which just happened to be the _perfect _height for where her head was – and studying what the light of the movie did to Rachel's face.

As soon as the movie ended, Santana shut her eyes and relaxed her body.

"Hmm. While that movie subscribed to many Hollywood clichés, it was better than I had anticipated it to be. What did you think?" Rachel's hand tensed on her shoulder, but Santana didn't move.

"Santana?" What felt like Rachel bending over shifted against the back of her head, and warm breath blew over Santana's face. She fought against the smile that threatened to come out.

A long sigh left Rachel's body, but soft fingers trailed up and across her cheeks, the exhalation ending in an amused hum, "I see how it is."

Deciding that Rachel's touch tickled a little too much to believably keep the charade going, Santana made a sleepy mumble noise and shifted onto her side so her face pressed into Rachel's warm thigh. She ended the move with an 'unconscious' wrapping of her arm around Rachel's waist, snuggling in.

A girlish giggle left Rachel's mouth, and a soft kiss was pressed into her cheek. "I thought Santana Lopez didn't cuddle?"

"Santana Lopez doesn't," Santana mumbled, grinning but keeping her eyes closed.

"Santana Lopez talks in her sleep?"

"Santana Lopez doesn't," Santana repeated. She enjoyed the shiver that passed through Rachel's body when her hand slipped under her shirt.

There was a pause, then Santana felt her head lifted, her arm removed, and Rachel gingerly moved herself off of the car seat. Rolling over, Santana watched with one arm slung over one eye as her girlfriend reached to turn off the radio and remove the keys from the ignition. "Then who are you?" was called back.

"What?"

"Who are you? Because if you're doing the things Santana Lopez does not, you're not Santana Lopez."

Santana smirked, closing her eyes as she listened to Rachel moving around. "I'm Santana Lopez, of course."

There was a cease of movement, then Rachel's amused voice spoke over the sound of cars starting up and moving around outside, "That makes no sense."

Santana just opened her eyes again and smiled in Rachel's direction. But Rachel seemed to be looking at something out the windshield and windows.

"What is it?" Santana asked, pushing herself up into an upright sitting position.

Rachel hummed. Her voice took on a too innocent tone, "It's going to take us a while to be able to pull out of here."

"Oh?" _Oh_. Santana licked her lips, grinning. "Deadlocked?"

"I'm afraid so," Rachel replied dramatically, white teeth shining in the light as she moved to sit on her knees in between Santana's legs, "It seems Lima teenagers don't know simple traffic courtesy and procedure."

Santana tugged Rachel closer. _Finally_. "Lima losers," she mumbled as their lips met.


	8. Chapter 8

The smile slipped off Santana's face. "You slept with Brittany?"

Rachel looked down. "I thought you should know," she started, hesitantly reaching out to take Santana's hand, "I… I want to be completely honest with you."

"Jesus!" Santana ripped her hand away, pushing back in her chair. "We… We were only broken up for _two weeks_, Rachel! And you…" She stopped, swallowing. "When?" she asked, voice thick.

Rachel bit her lower lip, tears gathering in her eyes.

"_When_?" Santana demanded again.

A tear slid down Rachel's cheek as she looked away. "March 13th," she whispered.

When Santana spoke, her voice was cold. "That was the day we broke up." Tightening her jaw, she stared at Rachel. "Wow." Head shaking, she clenched her eyes shut, blinking back tears a second later. "I'm done with you," she muttered, standing up, "I am _done _with you."

"San!" Rachel jumped up, "Please – "

"No." Santana shut her down completely, dark eyes burning black, "You know what? You don't _get _to ask me for anything." Voice rising, she took a step backwards, fists clenching at her sides. "Guess this," she gestured between them with quick, angry flicks of her hand, "Really _wasn_'_t _anything, huh?"

Rachel flinched, taking another step forward. "We were, we were broken up," she tried to explain, "I was crying in the bathroom, and Brittany found me. She… She comforted me, and she took me home, and… But, but you and I weren't _together_ anymore!" Her voice broke as she begged Santana to listen.

"_For two fucking hours_!" Santana roared, throwing her hands down violently. She took in a deep, shuddering breath, the tears she couldn't hold back anymore spilling down her cheeks. "And now I know why you broke up with me. What? You wouldn't be out with me, you didn't know if you were over Finn yet, '_you weren't even sure you liked women'_," Santana snarled in impression of the words Rachel had told her two weeks ago, "But you turn around and fuck Brittany? Yeah, you don't like pussy, you _fucking hypocrite_!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Rachel sobbed, digging the palms of her hands into her eyes, "But I was so confused and afraid, and – " She forced Santana to meet her eyes, the pain she saw on Santana's face making it hard to breathe. "I was scared. I was _so_ _scared_."

Santana ripped her gaze away and buried her face into her hands, fingers digging into her scalp. She shook her head, screaming at the top of her lungs. She screamed until she couldn't draw breath, until she felt lightheaded. "For two weeks," she begged with the little air she had left, "I wanted to know what I'd done _wrong_. Maybe I hadn't shown you how I felt, or I wasn't good enough. Maybe it seemed like I was ashamed of you. I didn't fucking _know_! So I chased you, tried to get you to _talk _to me. I wanted to show you that it was _okay_ to be with me. Dammit, Rachel," she gasped out, "I just wanted _you_."

Dissolving into coughs as her lungs constricted, Santana stiffened when cautious arms slid around her. With weak but determined hands, she pushed against Rachel's chest. "Get back," she protested, "You can't, you don't get to touch me, either. I don't want you to touch me! Get off! I don't _want_… I don't want _you_!"

Rachel hugged her tightly, pressing her face into Santana's shoulder, almost crawling onto Santana's lap when they sunk to the floor.

Santana's body sagged, and she let Rachel hold her. "Get off. I don't want you," she mumbled again, starting to cry again, her uncontrollable anger bleeding into defeated sadness.

"I know… I know." Whispering quietly, her voice and body trembling, Rachel pulled Santana's head down to rest her forehead onto her shoulder. "I know, honey," tears continued to drip down her face, "I know."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Complete and total crack!fic. My friend dared me to write a short story that included: bad poetry, Santana in front of the class, and pezberry in some form. So, here you go. I'm going to go hide now. XD

* * *

"Alright, guys, that's it for today! Have a good weekend, and _please_, work on the songs we practiced – " Mr. Schuester blinked, staring at the perfectly manicured hand in the air, "Yes? Santana?"

Santana sighed, a deep frown on her face. "Mr. Schue," she started, her voice clipped and heavy with annoyance, "I have a couple of words to say." She muttered quietly, but still loud enough that he caught it, "_Dammit_."

Furrowing his brow, Mr. Schuester looked at the other students, who had paused from packing up to see what was going on. Figuring that if they didn't mind staying a little after class ended, he shouldn't either. He shrugged and swept an arm out at the empty space in front of the piano, "Well, have at it."

"Thanks." She sounded anything but thankful. Standing up and straightening her jacket, Santana suddenly jutted a finger at a smirking Puck, glaring at him. "Don't you even, don't you…"

Puck raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk still planted firmly on his face.

Rolling her eyes and mouthing something at the ceiling, Santana stalked up to the front of the class. "God fucking dammit," she swore under her breath, again loud enough that everyone could hear it.

Mr. Schuester shifted in his seat, ready to call her on her language, when Santana opened her mouth again and turned her dark eyes onto the members of Glee. Scowling, she modulated her tone into an emotionless cadence, flat and affect-less. If that wasn't weird enough, the words coming out of her mouth, as soon as they understood what she was saying, made everyone's jaws drop.

As if by rote memorization, completely detached, Santana recited:

"_Oh golden star_

_You are so misunderstood_

_So small and shining bright_

_I'd hold you close if I could_"

Santana paused, and thinking she was done, everyone except Rachel, Brittany, and Puck looked at each other with 'what the fuck?' expressions on their faces. Brittany was studying Santana with curiosity, her head tilted a little. When Artie asked with his eyebrows if she knew what was going on, she shook her head. Puck just sat back in his chair, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on and was enjoying it. Rachel, meanwhile, brow furrowed, stared at Santana oddly, her mouth partly open in surprise.

"Well," Mr. Schuester cleared his throat, starting to rise from his seat, "That was – "

Santana's glare was so full of vitriol that it made his heart jump. He dropped back into his chair, nodding jerkily for her to continue.

She did so, looking increasingly more annoyed, her voice mostly still emotionless, but now colored with incredible hatred for what she was doing, almost grinding out:

"_Oh golden star_

_Your beauty isn't appreciated_

_But I'd call you gorgeous_

_Every day if we dated_"

If they weren't afraid of interrupting Santana, everyone would be furiously whispering back and forth with each other. Putting the lyrics together in her head, Quinn turned and stared at the girl sitting next to her, eyebrow raised. Rachel flushed at her look, shaking her head that she didn't know what or why what was happening was happening, eyes flicking back to watch Santana present the next verse… Of whatever it was she was sharing:

"_Oh golden star_

_Your mouth can be loud_

_So passionate and eager_

_I'd kiss you always if allowed_"

By then, everyone was splitting their attention between Santana, whose expression had grown darker and darker, and Rachel, who was slinking down in her chair, face erupting in a giant blush.

When Santana opened her mouth again, Puck suddenly coughed obnoxiously, the sound coming out suspiciously like '_naked photos_'.

Growling, Santana snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes promised him pain, but he just smiled smugly back at her. He inclined his head in Rachel's direction.

"That mohawk is fucking _mine_," Santana muttered, glaring at Mr. Schue to dare him to say anything and make it clear she wasn't done so he better not try to end class. Then, with a shake of her head, narrowing of her eyes, and sneering her displeasure, Santana locked her gaze on an instantly wide eyed and terrified Rachel.

As she stalked past him to reach her, Santana's hand shot out and pushed the back of Puck's chair hard enough to make him fall, not even quirking a grin when he did so. Then, as she came to a stop in front of her, Santana stared down at Rachel. Everyone in the near vicinity unconsciously leaned away.

Crossing her arms, Santana glared directly into Rachel's eyes, sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and when Rachel tensed and readied herself to get spat upon, Santana dropped to one knee and snarled out, not able to keep her anger, humiliation, and disdain out of her voice anymore:

"_Oh golden star_

_You are all I see in the moon's light_

_Won't you grant my wish and_"

Santana's dark eyes burned so hotly that Rachel swallowed, all of her upbringing being used to keep her from scooting backwards. Whatever last line Santana had to say, the girl obviously _hated _it.

"_Make lady-lovin' with me all tonight?_"


	10. Chapter 10

**Rachel Berry** is in love.

_**Brittany Pierce, **__**Kurt Hummel**__, __**Mercedes Jones**__, __**Tina Cohen-Chang**__, and __**8 others**__ like this._

**Brittany Pierce **Aww! Who is it?

**Kurt Hummel ***rolls eyes* Oh joy, more sappy love songs for glee.

**Rachel Berry **There will be no love songs. Unfortunately, I was made to promise that I would not sing any.

**Noah Puckerman **Hah! Bet you're pissed.

**Mercedes Jones** Wait… He's in glee? Girl, who you datin'?

**Tina Cohen-Chang **Who?

**Brittany Pierce **Did I miss who she said it was?

**Kurt Hummel **No, Britt, unfortunately Rachel's keeping tight lipped. I hate to sound repetitive, Rachel, but I, too, wish to know the details of this new development!

**Rachel Berry **I'm sorry everyone, but I'm not ready to share this particular detail of my private life at this time. I only wished to share the happiness I was and am still feeling. I hope you respect my wishes to keep silent on this matter.

**Tina Cohen-Chang **Don't make me sic Mike's ninja skills on you!

**Santana Lopez **Who says it's a guy…

**Tina Cohen-Chang **! ! !

**Rachel Berry **Santana!

**Kurt Hummel ***dramatic gasp* Is this TRUE?

**Mercedes Jones **Damn girl, you workin' it!

**Noah Puckerman **That. Is. Hot. Can I watch?

**Rachel Berry **NO, Noah, there shall be no 'watching' of any kind.

**Noah Puckerman **Aww, c'mon, babe.

**Rachel Berry** No!

**Brittany Pierce **Can I watch?

**Rachel Berry **… No, Brittany. If Noah cannot watch, neither can you.

**Finn Hudson **…

**Kurt Hummel **Well hello, Finn. Nice of you to FINALLY join the party. What are YOUR thoughts on this scandal?

**Finn Hudson **Shut up, Kurt. You're sitting across the room from me.

**Quinn Fabray **Wait. Rachel. If it's not me, Mercedes, Tina, or Brittany… Oh. My. God. SANTANA!

**Rachel Berry **…Apparently, I did not think this through when I decided to share my affections online.

**Santana Lopez **Damn right, Quinnie! Me n' Berry are gettin' it ON!

**Santana Lopez **Regularly.

**Noah Puckerman **Double, triple, a million times HOT!

**Mercedes Jones **Good. Lord.

**Tina Cohen-Chang **I… I don't know what to say.

**Rachel Berry **Santana Francesca Lopez! You…! You…! You better get over here and make this up to me!

**Santana Lopez **I'll be there in ten. Wear that skimpy outfit you wore last time…

**Noah Puckerman **Hot Jew, hot Latina, soundproofed room… You SURE I can't watch? I can't… Join in?

**Quinn Fabray **…Thank you, Puck, for those LOVELY images. Now I need to go scrub my brain.

**Brittany Pierce **Did I miss who Rachel's dating again?

**Santana Lopez **It's me, B. I'll text you this weekend, kay? And Puck, HELL NO! The rest of you losers, shut it. Now, I've got things to see and Rachel to do.

**Mercedes Jones **That's just wrong on so many levels…

**Tina Cohen-Chang **I agree.

**Brittany Pierce **Ooooh, have fun!

**Kurt Hummel **I second the agreement. *I*, for one, would NEVER have seen these two together. Am I dreaming?

**Tina Cohen-Chang **Only if it's a collective dream we're all stuck in.

**Finn Hudson **…

**Quinn Fabray **What is with the too much information sharing? Do we REALLY need to know that?

**Noah Puckerman **Speak for yourself, Baby Momma. I wanna know!

**Quinn Fabray **Eww, Puck. Just… Eww. And don't call me that!

**Artie Abrams **I never knew Santana's middle name was Francesca.

**Tina Cohen-Chang **…Neither did I.

**Mercedes Jones **I didn't.

**Kurt Hummel **I don't think ANYONE knew.

**Brittany Pierce **Knew what?

**Tina Cohen-Chang **That Santana's middle name is Francesca.

**Kurt Hummel **That Francesca is Santana's middle name.

**Brittany**** Pierce **Oh. I knew that!

**Quinn Fabray **And you can't remember your OWN middle name?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I wish I knew where my ideas came from. But _no_. I sit down and just start writing. I think I find this kind of amusing.

* * *

"Are you almost here?"

"Yeah, I'm here. But this fuckin' _idiot_ tried to take the last spot in the car, and when we were arguing over whose it was – _mine_, dammit – the jackass attendant kicked us both off. Now I have to wait for the next car, and he's still fuckin' standin' next to me." Santana sounded _livid_.

Rachel winced. "I'm sorry, baby, that sounds horrible."

"You're damn right it is! Jesus, babe, I wanted to meet your parents on time and shit so they wouldn't think badly of me. Not like this. They're going to _hate _me." Santana's tendency of resorting to profanities when stressed was in full swing, but Rachel could forgive her. Everything else she was saying was sweet.

"They're not going to hate, you, San. I promise. Besides, Daddy's not here yet, either, so even if he arrives before you, you'll be right after, right?"

Santana sighed. "I hope so. These things are supposed to come around every five minutes, right?"

"I think so. And, honey?"

"Yeah?"

Rachel smiled, "Even if you're late, don't worry about it. _I_'_m _the one who asked you to go back and retrieve my bag, after all, so it would be my fault."

A light chuckle echoed over the phone. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

"…So what'cha gonna do to make it up to me, hmm?"

Santana's voice made her blush, and she coughed a little, turning away from her dad. "Oh, I'll think of something," she lowered her voice, enjoying the deep breath of air she could hear her girlfriend draw in and let out.

"Ohh, now you got me not wantin' to wait; you sure we can't just blow off your 'rents and do some 'Happiest Place on Earth' exploring of our own?"

Rachel absently twirled a lock of her hair around one finger as a giant smile took over her face. "I don't know. What's your definition of 'Happiest Place on Earth'?"

Santana's response was immediate, "Anywhere where you n' me can be naked and I get you _all_… _To_… _Myself_."

An even wider smile split her face, and Rachel felt her heart squeeze with a mixture of lust and love. If she were anywhere else and not out in front of Disney World with one of her fathers standing not five feet away from her, no matter he was also on the phone, she would have something equally suggestive to say back. Instead, she put the full extent of her affection for Santana in her voice as she said, "Mmm… That sounds _wonderful_. And, you know I love you, right?"

"You do?"

"Mmhm. I do."

An equally happy smile came over the line, "I love you too, babe."

Contented silence passed between them until suddenly Santana let out an excited noise. "Ah, yay, it's here, Rache. I'll see you soon, kay? I'm gonna run in as soon as the doors open so the douche doesn't gets my spot."

Rachel chuckled. "Okay, San. See you soon. I'm getting excited!"

"Me too. Oh, the doors're opening! Bye! Now, outta the way, pe – !" And before Rachel could respond, the line closed.

Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Rachel slid her phone back into her pocket. Turning back around to see her father ending his own conversation, she caught the end of it, "Yes, honey. No, not all young adults are as rude as that. I'm sure you won't have to sit next to – . Don't _worry _about it. Santana isn't here yet, either, so it won't look bad. Ahuh. Yep. I'll let her know. Okay, see you soon. _Cory_, stop worrying! Ye – yes. Okay. _Go_. Love you too. Bye."

That sounded a little odd… When her dad ended the conversation, she asked curiously, "Problems?"

Jonathon sighed, a faint smile curling on his lips. Taking off his glasses and cleaning them with the bottom of his shirt, he explained, "No, it's fine, hun. Daddy's just running a little later than he thought he'd be. I _told _him to make sure he had his wallet with him, but regardless. He should be here soon."

Rachel smiled. "That's good."

"Mmhm." Slipping his glasses back on, her father tilted his head, "I'm assuming you were also talking to Santana? Has she gotten your bag yet?"

"Oh yes, she has. She's fine. She just…" Rachel thought about the best way to say it, "Ran into some unplanned difficulties while trying to board the monorail. Apparently she and another passenger got into a… An incidental altercation."

Jonathon's mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. "Oh god," he muttered, putting a hand up to his face.

Immediately concerned, Rachel took a step forward, "Dad?"

"Honey… Rachel…" Trailing off, the older man straightened and looked off towards where the monorail would be arriving, "Did that altercation have… Anything to do with room for one and… and two people…?"

"Wait. How did – Oh. Oh no. Oh _no_." Rachel's hand flew to her mouth, and her stomach fell. "Of _course_!" she exclaimed, throwing both hands into the air, "We go to school together for years and she never meets you or Daddy, but six years later when we've run into each other in New York and start dating for six months, _that_'_s _when she meets you. On vacation. _Thanksgiving_ vacation. At Disney World, no less. So there's tons of people, but even so, she's trying to hurry so she can make a good impression – and completely bitches out the person she doesn't know is my father in the process. Of _course_."

"That does seem sadly ironic."

Rachel walked over to the nearest bench, dropping down onto it. "I just can't _believe _this. This is _not _how I planned this meeting to go. Dad…" she looked up at Jonathon, eyes big, "Tell me everything's going to be okay."

"Now, honey," her father started, sitting down next to her, "I'm sure everything will be fine – "

"That's not what I said." Her voice commanding, Rachel interrupted him. "Tell me everything's _going to be okay_."

Jonathon looked at her.

Rachel wilted a little. "Tell me?"

He continued looking at her.

Sighing, Rachel dropped her head. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just… I really love Santana, and I want you and Daddy to _like _her. I didn't… I _don't_ want everything to start off so _badly _that you – or Daddy – won't accept her."

Her father hmmed, an understanding expression on his face. "Well," he sat back and crossed his leg, "Your father's a good man, remember. Once he calms down and realizes _why _she bitched him out, I'm sure he'll understand. Same with your Santana, am I right?"

Sliding over to rest her head on his shoulder, Rachel faintly smiled. "Yes, you're right. In fact, I'd be surprised if she forgave herself anytime soon." She smoothed down her skirt. "How about you, Dad?" she asked, her voice quiet as she looked up at him, "Since I don't know what Daddy told you – though I can't imagine it being good, knowing Santana – are you... Have you already formed a... A negative initial impression?"

Jonathon blinked. "Me? Well, though I may _have_ gotten a very _colorful _story from my husband, I haven't met Santana personally yet. I'm going to hold off on an impression until then. You should know that."

Rachel beamed. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, she smiled at him, "Thank you, Dad. And you're right. I should. I'm sorry."

He smiled back. "No problem, honey."

After that reassurance, both Berrys lapsed into thoughtful silence, each wondering how their respective significant others would react when the situation was revealed.

Presently, Jonathon noticed his husband coming out of the station. His eyebrows rose, and he nudged his daughter's shoulder, "Well, Rachel, I see your father. You want to point out your _delectable_ Miss Santana Lopez?"

Blushing at the light teasing, Rachel looked towards the monorail entrance. She groaned. It should have been obvious who Santana was. Because, walking almost the same speed and separated by about ten feet, Cory Berry and Santana Lopez were giving each other wary glares through the crowd that surrounded them as their eyes flicked back and forth from Rachel and Jonathon and each other.

The dawning realization and horror showing up on both of their faces would have been funny in any other circumstance. Instead, as Rachel quickly walked up to meet Santana while trying very hard to avoid meeting her daddy's gaze, she just wanted the moment to fast forward so they could get past all of the burgeoning awkwardness.

Santana hugged Rachel's bag close to her body. "Rachel, is he – that's your – I didn't know."

"Shh." Smiling soothingly, Rachel stepped forward and drew Santana into a hug, wanting to smooth the lines away from in between her girlfriend's eyebrows. "It's okay, baby. You didn't know, and neither did he." Behind her, she could hear her fathers having a similar conversation.

Santana slid her arms around Rachel's waist, burying her face into the side of Rachel's head. "But I feel so _bad_," she groaned, shaking her head, "Your dads're goin' to _hate_ me."

Rachel couldn't help smiling. "It's so cute that you care so much."

Santana harrumphed, but smiled as she took a step back. "Baby, they're your _parents_. Of _course _I want to make a good impression." Her eyes flicked over to the two men, and the tight lines of her face relaxed a little. "Well, at least he's not glaring at me anymore."

Rachel glanced over her shoulder, then laughed, startling Santana. "Honey," she scrambled for her hand, lacing their fingers together, "My daddy's blushing _quite _heavily. I think you're okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Pushing up on her toes, Rachel kissed Santana softly. "You're not in trouble. I love you."

Santana sighed against her lips and increased the pressure for a couple of seconds, her hand tightening around hers. She pulled away, resting her forehead onto Rachel's. "Dammit, you make me into one of those sickeningly mushy girlfriends, but I love you anyway."

Rachel grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now," turning a little and seeing that her fathers were waiting for them, she squeezed Santana's hand, starting to feel excitement and anticipation make their way through her body, "Ready to _officially_ meet my fathers?"

Santana firmed her shoulders and drew herself up straight, affixing a confident smile onto her face. She nodded. "Let's _do_ this shit."

Sighing, Rachel slapped her arm, giving her an annoyed look.

"What? Wha'd I do?"

"Really, Santana. You're incorrigible."

Santana smirked. "Good thing I'm smokin' hot then, huh?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, but kissed her cheek, smiling anyway. "Very. Now, come on," she started leading Santana over, "These are my fathers, Jonathon and Cory Berry. Dad, _Daddy_, this is Santana Lopez, my girlfriend…"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **It's amazing what one finds in their outtake and odds n' ends file. Also, I have a question. I tried this out for about an evening but decided I, personally, didn't like it, but figured I'd ask anyway - would you like to have a 'preview' of the newest story in the summary (like 'Chapter XX: blah blah blah) each time I update, or do you like being surprised?

* * *

Brittany gave her a Frankenstein Pez dispenser for her birthday. Turning it over and over in her hands, brow furrowed, Santana looked up at her friend. "Uhm, okay. Thanks, Britt."

Brittany beamed, almost bouncing in her seat. "See? See? I even got you some of the candy!" She pushed three packets of red Pez into Santana's hand, making her set down the Frankenstein onto the table.

"Red?" she asked, eyebrow raised. Well, at least those didn't tend to taste like plastic.

"Yeah!" Brittany smiled, lacing her hands together on the table, still vibrating with happiness, "Like our Cheerio outfits."

"Ahh." Okay, that… Kinda made sense. "And the Frankenstein is for…?" She didn't dare say it was for her PMS. No matter how much she loved Brittany, there _were _limits.

But Brittany's response confused her even more: "Man Hands."

"_Berry_?" Okay, Brittany'd lost her. "What the hell does Frankenstein's monster have to do with Berry? And why give me something that has to do with _her_?"

Brittany just grinned. "You really don't need me to explain it to you, you know."

"Uh, _yeah_, I do."

She shook her head. "San," Brittany reached out and pushed the Pez dispenser into her hand again, "Just think about it."

What… The… Hell. What a time for Brittany to start one of her 'you already know' kicks. The last time that had happened, Santana had found herself locked into a closet with Quinn. She still hadn't figured that one out. "Wait, wait, wait," she waved her hand, furrowing her brow as she leaned forward, "You're saying that this stands for _Yentl_?"

Brittany nodded.

Santana frowned. "Why the fuck are you giving me 'Rachel'?"

"Because you want the real one but can't have her."

"_Excuse _me?"

Brittany sat back, smiling broadly at her. "It's okay, San. I know it's not as good as the real one, but we can work on that."

Santana's mouth dropped open, and she started and stopped replying many times. Why the… How the… _What_?

"See, I was trying to figure out why you're so mean to Rachel all the time – uhm, like on a different level than your usual meanness – and I started watching you when you're with her." Brittany nodded, "And it's obvious, S. You want her."

What the… No, that wasn't right. Brittany was _imagining _things. That was preposterous!

"…And when I asked her if I could give her to you for your birthday, she turned this really funny reddish-purple color and said something about… Sexual slavery…? I didn't really understand all of what she said, but I knew she was turning me down. I'm sorry."

Santana stared at her. "…I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Santana kicked the wastebasket. Watching crumpled paper towels spill all over the floor, she let an angry expression cover her face. Better the wastebasket than Brittany.

Because seriously? That was all kinds of…

No, that was typical Brittany behavior.

Walking over to the sink, Santana stared into the mirror. She sighed. She was _not _looking forward to damage control. The midget could _not _believe that crap was true. Because it wasn't, dammit!

_Ugh_.

Splashing water on her face, she dried it off, paused, and dropped the paper towel so it could join the ones on the floor. Walking back to the booth, she faltered when she got closer. Why the… _Brittany_.

Sliding back into her seat, Santana made her face as expressionless as she could. "What are _you _doing here?"

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip, meeting Santana's gaze shyly. "I… I was thinking back over what Brittany... Asked me, but I was having difficulty figuring it out. Then, about an hour ago, I got a text from her, inviting me here again, and I… Well, I came."

"I can see that," Santana said snidely, raising her eyebrow. "And B?"

"Oh!" Rachel blinked, "She said to tell you that she's taking back the candy and Frankenstein because she's hungry and you don't need it anymore."

That really sounded like Brittany. Still, this was unbelievable. "Well, great." Santana pushed herself up, "See you, Berry."

"No! Wait." A small hand settled on Santana's arm, making her pause, "I knew it was your birthday today, and, well, I hadn't the chance to give this to you earlier, as you skipped glee. So, here." Rachel handed her an envelope she pulled out of her coat.

Sinking back down into her seat and eyeing Rachel suspiciously, Santana opened it. Her mouth dropped open. "Hot _damn_…" she whispered, eyebrows flying to the top of her forehead. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, jumping up and moving over to pull Rachel out of the seat, "Let's leave this stupid diner. Breadstix is calling!"

"I, but – _now_? And what about paying – "

Santana rolled her eyes, tugging the other girl behind her. Pushing open the door, she dragged Rachel over to her easily recognizable Prius, "We hadn't ordered yet. Now c'mon! Drive me, woman!"

Rachel pulled her arm out of Santana's grip, staring at her. "What do _I _get out of this?"

Grah! Throwing her hands up in the air, Santana glared at her. "Are you _stupid_? If you drive me to Breadstix, you can get all the breadsticks you want. And if you're good, Britts and I will make out in front of – oh, wait, she's not here anymore. Anyway," Santana shook her head; was it a bad thing that line had become a habit? "It's my birthday and I wants to redeem this _now_."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, one corner of her mouth turning up with incredulity, "Wow. How _kind _of you. May I even have a salad?" She unlocked her car, and Santana hurried over to climb into the passenger seat.

"Sure, sure, whatev. As long as it's the cheapest one." She was going to _Breadstix_! Seriously, those sticks of bread of heaven were like, her crack.

Rachel stared at her from the driver's seat, unamused.

"_Joke_, Berry. _Yes_, I'll gets you whatever salad you want." Jesus.

Rachel suddenly started chuckling, shaking her head. "Wow, you are funny," she mused, starting her car and checking the rearview window. "Breadstix it is."

Santana grinned. Maybe Rachel wasn't as bad as she had always thought. Because… A Breadstix gift certificate? That was fucking amazing. Still, Brittany's theory was total crap.

Rachel looked over and smiled at her, "I'm glad you like the present. As I've been trying to pay more attention to the other people in glee club, I figured this would be an apt way to facilitate our, well, glee club relationship, at least."

Santana studied her. "It's a start," she allowed, then cracked a small smile.

The blush that made its way over Rachel's face was cute. Hmm… How far does it go down her body…?

Holy crap. Santana sat up straight. Taking her gaze away and then returning it to Rachel, her eyes immediately started sweeping up and down, drinking the smaller girl in. A familiar heat started blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

No… Couldn't be! Was she _actually_ finding the dwarf attractive?

_Dammit_, Brittany!

Rachel caught her eye and smiled a little nervously, and Santana noticed that her eyelashes fluttered a little. Well, damn. She knew what that meant.

Hmm. Depending, maybe she should _thank_ Brittany instead…

She checked Rachel out again. Miss Frankenstein really _did_ have a bangin' body once you looked for it. "Happy, happy birthday to me..." she hummed to herself, smirking when Rachel glanced over at her curiously. Let her wonder.


	13. Chapter 13

Everyone else had already chosen their beds in Cabin #4. Lugging her baggage in behind her, Santana met the curious gazes of the three girls who would be her summer camp roommates. Two blondes and another brunette. And it looked like she would have to bunk with the brunette. Santana snorted. Ironic symmetry.

"Hi!" the tallest blonde chirped, waving excitedly, while the other blonde nodded with a cool smile on her face.

Nodding back nonchalantly, Santana turned to the brunette. "You have top or bottom?" she asked.

The girl blinked. "Oh, I chose the bottom bunk."

"Wonderful." Throwing her bag up onto the top bed, Santana swept her gaze up and down the small girl, then out to encompass the other two. "So…" she drawled, crossing her arms loosely, "What all did you do to get sent here?"

Shorter Blonde frowned, "Parents divorcing." So send kid away while they fight like cats and dogs. Made sense.

Taller Blonde cocked her head, "I come here every year." Mmm. Repeat offender. Probably knew the ins and outs of the camp, though, so she should stick close by her.

Her bunkmate pushed her hair behind her ear, smiling faintly, "Dad's on vacation."

"And your mom?" Shorter Blonde piped up, a fine eyebrow raised. Probably hoping to find another divorce-kid to latch onto. Santana waited for Brunette's answer.

Brunette shook her head. "Not Dad's. _Dads_." Interesting.

"Oh!" Taller Blonde smiled. "I get it! Like Bert and Ernie, right?"

Brunette nodded, smiling back, while Santana smirked, and Shorter Blonde looked a little uncomfortable. Deciding to stave off any awkward homophobic mumblings, she brought the attention back to herself, "Fascinating." She dropped down to sit next to Brunette on her bed. "I helped steal an ATM machine," she announced.

Blonde, Blonder, and Brunette stared at her.

Finally, Brunette shook her head slightly, a small unsure frown on her face, "That's…?"

"Fricken' awesome," Santana responded.

"…Not what I was going to say, but I suppose it works," a full grin quirked on Brunette's lips. She nodded, then stuck out her hand, "Rachel Berry. Nice to meet you."

Santana raised an eyebrow, but accepted the handshake. Oddly formal girl. Still, she had a nice soft palm, small and strong. "Santana Lopez." Dropping her hand, she turned to the two blondes. "You?"

"Hi Santana!" Taller Blonde grinned, and knocked Shorter Blonde's shoulder with her own. Huffing but smiling anyway, Shorter Blonde inclined her head. "Quinn Fabray. And this is Brittany Pierce."

"B. Q. And…" Santana studied Rachel, enjoying the look on the girl's face as she waited for a nickname. R was out, and B for Berry was already taken. Raking her gaze up and down Rachel again, Santana decided, "Berry."

Rachel's face dropped. "My… _Last name_?"

"Do you want to be a pirate?"

Brittany giggled at that, sounding it out, "_Arrrr_."

Quinn stifled a chuckle, and Rachel shot the two blondes the beginnings of a pout. "You're no help. …_Fine_," she muttered.

The bell to announce they had ten minutes to make it to the main cabin for their orientation meeting sounded overhead. Santana ignored it. "You got a problem with Berry?"

Rachel thought for a second. "It's awfully dry," she finally offered, turning away to rifle through the suitcase sitting at the foot of her bed. Santana observed her silently. She _would _be bunkmates with the neat freak kind of girl.

"I like it!" Brittany announced as she bent down to slip on and tie her shoes, "Makes you sound like a fruit."

"I wonder why," Quinn rolled her eyes. She nodded at Rachel. "I agree with Brittany, though. It's not _horrible_."

Rachel paused. "If you say so." She flicked her gaze back to Santana. "Will you give me a better one if it comes to you?" she asked almost shyly.

Santana raised her eyebrows again. So not only the neat freak, but the social outcast as well. Hmm. Maybe because of her fathers. She shrugged, standing up. Pulling her rainbow seatbelt belt out of her bag and slipping it through the belt loops of her shorts, she offered noncommittally as she buckled it, "We'll see."

When she looked up, Rachel's eyes were locked on her belt. She stared for a bit until she realized Santana was watching her, and she blinked, dragging her gaze up. "I like your belt," she complimented with a real smile, then pulled a sweater from her suitcase and swept out of the cabin, calling behind her, "I'll save seats if I can!"

Quinn grabbed a sweater for herself, and with a smile at both Santana and Brittany and a, "Don't take too long," she quickly followed Rachel out.

"Alright!" Brittany popped up, "You ready to go?"

"Mmm. Not yet." Turning back to her bag, Santana quickly pulled out a big brown paper sack from under her clothes and slid it under the pillow on her bed, having to push up on her tiptoes to do so. They were probably going to do random luggage sweeps while the orientation meeting was going on, and there was _no_ way she wanted them finding her alcohol.

She dropped back down once secure everything looked in place. "Alright," she put her hands into the pockets of her shorts, "Now I'm ready."

Brittany stared at her before a wide grin split her face. "I thought _I _was the only one who did that," she motioned towards Santana's bed with her head, "You _have _to tell me what you brought."

Santana smirked. "Only if you do the same back." Opening the door, she let Brittany precede her out.

She had a feeling Truth or Dare that night was going to be _amazing_.


	14. Chapter 14

Rachel finds her smoking a cigarette under the bleachers. "That's a horrible vice," she offers in greeting from behind.

Santana lazily looks over her shoulder at the sound of her voice, and shrugs. "There was no one here to bother."

"Except you." Rachel moves around her, stopping a few feet away.

"Except me." Nodding in acknowledgment, Santana takes a deep drag, blowing the smoke out to the side. She glances down at the cigarette and shrugs again. "You want?" she offers mildly, holding it out.

Rachel makes a face, taking an extra step back from her. "I don't need to ruin my lungs, thank you," she chides.

Santana smiles and pulls it back up to her mouth. "Guess I just wanted to see your reaction."

"Well, now you've seen it. Would you be so courteous as to put it out?"

Looking at her through the smoke, Santana's lips quirk up. "Why not," she sighs, dropping it to the ground and using her shoe to grind it into the dirt, "It was almost done, anyway. So." She raises her eyebrows, sliding her hands into her jacket pockets, "Aren't you supposed to be in glee right about now?"

"I _would _be," Rachel agrees, walking forward, "Except someone was missing." She digs into her shoulder bag and pulls out a box of Altoids.

"I'm not planning on breathing on you, Berry."

Rachel still hands it to Santana expectedly. Grumbling good naturedly, Santana takes the tin, popping two mints into her mouth. "Good?" she mumbles around her tongue as she opens her mouth to show Rachel.

"_Please_." Looking up, Rachel shakes her head and grabs the tin back.

Santana keeps her mouth open.

Rachel frowns, "_Santana_."

Santana grins as best as she can.

"Okay, _yes_. You're good."

"Thank you." Closing her mouth, Santana makes a funny face as she separates the two mints to either side. She bites and chews one, breaking it down enough to swish the grit around. Once she succeeds coating the whole area, she starts sucking on the second one. "So. Where were we?"

Rachel puts the Altoids away. "You were missing from glee."

"Still am, actually," Santana hums, "And now you are too." She looks around, then leans down to pick up the cigarette. Straightening, she curls her hand around the used butt, using her other to push her hair away from her face. She smiles. "C'mon, let's take a walk. Maybe you can convince me to go back with you."


	15. Chapter 15

"Who the hell_ is_ she?" Santana grit out, using the guise that she was laying her head on Karofsky's chest affectionately to watch with unblinking eyes Brittany dancing with a random girl on the other side of the gym.

Sighing and resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Karofsky swung them around to get his own look. Ignoring Santana's angry mutter at the fact that she couldn't see the blonde anymore, he swung them back. "Oh, that's one of the rugby players. Don't know her name, but she's friends with Azimio's sister."

"_Rugby_?" Santana hissed, tightening her arms around his neck, "Fuckin' lesbian better watch her back! Tryin' to move in on _my _girl!"

Coughing to let her know her arms were too tight, Karofsky moved them around again so she couldn't look at the two girls anymore, though it didn't stop her from trying to crane her head as far as she could. "…You could always go over there and ask her to dance," he muttered gruffly, studiously averting his eyes away from her.

Santana stared up at him. "What. The. Hell?" she looked like she didn't know if she should be angry or impressed, "Without bringing up the fact that _you_, the king of the repressed homosexuals, was telling me to go dance with another _girl_, I _cannot _believe you would have me risking the crown so close to the fuckin' ceremony! You and I, _David_, need to dance _only with each other_."

Karofsky cleared his throat. "I was just saying," he frowned, his eyebrows drawing together, "Girls get to dance together all the time. It's not…" He glanced around and lowered his voice, "It's not _gay_."

"Gee. Thanks." Frowning back at him, Santana sighed angrily and dropped her head back to his chest. After a couple of seconds, she offered, "I'm glad you're wearing more fruity cologne. Doesn't make you smell as much like a guy."

Deciding not to answer that, though he secretly agreed with her, Karofsky went back to awkwardly swaying them together. Santana was an amazing girl, and her body wasn't _bad _to be against, but… Looking over her head, he caught sight of Kurt and his boyfriend laughing with Mercedes and Sam at one of the tables. He sighed, then pulled Santana closer.

It wasn't Santana's fault. She was just… A girl.

"Oh _fuck_."

"What? What is it?" Startled out of his thoughts, Karofsky blinked down at her.

"_Shit_," Santana hissed again, her attention fully focused on somewhere across the dance floor. Pushing away from Karofsky, making him hurriedly unlock his hands from her waist, she shot him a quick, distracted apologetic look, and disappeared into the crowd, pushing people out of her way if they didn't react fast enough to her ordered, "Bully Whip coming through! Outta the way, idiots! Move! _Move_! Dammit, haven't you ever heard of Lima Heights Adjacent?"

Staring after her, Karofsky realized he should probably follow. Using his football training, he was quickly shoving the same people out of his way, making sure to apologize as he did so. He may have been chasing his crazy beard, but he still couldn't afford to forget his new bully-free persona, and he _knew _Santana would not only beat his ass but out him if he cost them the Prom because of something so simple as not saying 'I'm sorry'.

As he got closer to where an obvious commotion was happening near the bottom of the stage, Karofsky had to add another adjective to the mental list he was making of what his fake girlfriend was: reckless. Because, with both hands planted on Finn's chest, in the act of pushing him away, Santana's head was fully turned to glare at and watch Jesse's body movements to keep herself between him and Finn. Even in her stunning prom dress, she managed to look formidable.

"_Hey_! Toddlers. Cut. It. The. Fuck. _Out_!" Maneuvering around so now a hand was on each boy's chest, the muscles in her arms were flexing with the effort, and Santana snapped, "These heels were _not _designed to survive immature male posturing! Why don't you two go to the bathroom and whip out your penises _there _like _normal _Neanderthals?"

"Santana, this isn't _any_ of your business. Get out of the way!" Finn growled, trying to lunge around her, "This is about Jesse. Jesse, you don't _get_ to be anywhere near Rachel!"

Jesse, smaller and lighter on his feet than Finn, managed to temporarily slip by Santana. "That's not for you to decide, now is it?" he shoved on either side of Santana's hand, successfully throwing Finn off balance, "You just can't handle the fact that she chose _me _over an idiot like you."

"Oh. My. _God_." Grabbing the back of Jesse's suit and violently yanking him backwards, Santana thrust him at Karofsky, who had finally made his way over, "Rachel's not a fucking _prize_." Catching Finn's mad charge in Karofsky's direction, she stepped forward, dropped her hand to his wrist, and, as he tried to pass her, slid forward, jerked him down, then up, and down again, using his own momentum to flip him, slamming his back onto the floor of the gymnasium.

In the sudden ringing silence in the gym, she walked around his body to face him right side up, her heels loud. Glaring down at him, she snapped her fingers, "Fabray! Get your ass over here and tame your Jolly Green Giant, because if he makes _one move_ in Rachel or Jesse's direction, his ass is kicked _out_." She narrowed her eyes at Finn, "You got that, Frankenteen, or am I speaking too _softly_?"

Turning to Jesse, she leveled an even harsher glare at him. Stalking over, she lowered her voice, "And you, pretty boy St. Douche, did you forget that you are _not _a student at this school? That means that I am _not _legally required to treat you with any sort of discretion." Holding his gaze, she smirked arrogantly.

Then, taking a deep breath, she touched her hair, smoothed down the shoulder of her dress, and looked up to address the whole gym, a proud expression sliding onto her face, "Just because this is the Prom, ladies and gentlemen, does _not _mean the Bully Whips are off duty! Now." She looked up at the band, "Let's get back to dancin'!"

With an eruption of voices and cheers to mix with the loud opening chords of _Raise Your Glass_, interestingly being sung by Tina, the surrounding crowds dispersed back into what it had been before. Puck and Mike stared at each other before shrugging and bent to help Finn up while Quinn stood back, watching, her arms crossed and a severely annoyed expression on her face. Letting Jesse go after making sure Finn was hobbling off towards the boy's bathroom, Karofsky caught the back of Santana as she hurried off after a fleeing Rachel going the opposite direction. Raising his hands and shoulders in an exasperated shrug, Karofsky sighed, shook his head, and went over to the punchbowl. He sincerely hoped someone had spiked it.

Twenty minutes later, right before they were to be brought on stage in anticipation of announcing the winners of Junior Prom King and Queen, Santana returned. Sliding her hand into the crook of his arm and taking her place next to him, Karofsky looked down, and blanched. "Lopez," he leaned down to whisper into her ear, "Though a nice color, Berry's lipstick is not _your _color."

* * *

**A/N: **I am flirting with writing another version of this story from someone's else predominant point of view. After all, how _did _Santana's make-up switch, hmm? Also, side note, but I love Santofsky friendship. They're too cute together!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **I just found this tucked away in a random file. Totally had forgotten about it. I'm sure I had plans for it, but what they were, I do not know (probably explains why it ends as it does). I also don't know where the very different style of writing came from, either... Anyway, with this chapter and knowing that I'll probably be exploring more 'adult' stories sooner or later, I am also upping the rating of this fic.

* * *

Santana pushed back the dark hair curling around Rachel's face, her fingertips trembling from the warmth emanating from her skin. Dark, liquid eyes looked up at her, and Rachel's hands came up to wrap around her neck, pulling her head down. Santana allowed the movement, shivering as their noses brushed against each other.

A wet tongue swept along Rachel's bottom lip, and Santana wondered, after a jolt of pure arousal rushed through her, if that had been an unconscious act from the other girl or wicked teasing. "Santana," Rachel husked out, running her left hand down the slope of Santana's neck and under the collar of her shirt, tracing her collarbone, "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

Santana caught her breath, hands tensing. Cupping Rachel's cheek, she tilted the girl's head up, lowering hers, sliding her other arm behind Rachel's back so the girl had to step closer into her. Feeling soft breasts push against her, her breath hitched. Rachel's eyes sparkled up at her, an amused smile playing on her lips. Santana closed the remaining centimeters, kissing Rachel deeply and possessively.

"Oh, San," Rachel sighed into her mouth, pushing her right hand in between Santana's jacket and shirt, fingers digging into her hip, "I thought you were _never _going to – "

"Shh," Santana cut her off, nipping at Rachel's lip, sucking it into her mouth to soothe it. She pushed forward until Rachel's back hit the wall, and then moved her right leg between Rachel's legs, making the girl gasp into her mouth and clutch her closer. Her hips started grinding slowly into Santana's thigh, bucking when teeth suddenly bit into the tendon of her neck.

"You've been driving me crazy all night," Santana whispered into her ear, shivering as Rachel's hands found their way under her shirt to take advantage of the skin offered to her, "And it's about time you start making it up to me." She kissed down Rachel's jaw to claim her mouth again, loving the way her lips moved under hers.

Santana found herself thrusting against Rachel in time with the swipes of her tongue, trying to drink in as much of the taste of her mouth as she could. Sliding her arm down, her hand mapping out the curve of Rachel's back and waist, feeling the heat pouring off of her, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and tugged it. "Open," she muttered between one kiss and the next.

A laugh vibrated from Rachel's chest. "Santana," the girl pulled back a little, licking her lips swollen from kissing and smiling at her with flushed cheeks and desire darkened eyes, "In case you've forgotten, we're in a public place and –" she moaned into the almost bruising kiss Santana gave her, hungrily kissing her back, "And…" She gasped. "And though I – ah, admire your passion, I can't in good conscience –" Santana, growing impatient, thanked all that was holy that the other girl was wearing a skirt and bent forward until she could slip her hand in under it and her underwear, cupping wet heat.

Rachel gasped, surging forward to bury her head into Santana's collarbone, peppering her skin with kisses and moans. Her fingernails scraped at Santana's back, and Santana bit her lip to stop the moan bubbling up from inside her at the sweet pain. Rachel tried to buck forward, to move her hand closer to her center, but Santana moved with the motion, enjoying feeling Rachel on her palm.

Moving her thigh so it pressed into the back of her hand, adding a little pressure against the place Rachel wanted it most, Santana tenderly nudged Rachel's head up. "Rache," she whispered, smoothing hair back from her face, a warm feeling erupting in her chest at the look in her eyes.

"Yes?" Rachel breathed, smiling back and kissing her briefly.

Santana smirked and she arched an eyebrow, "Open your shirt?"

Rachel's laugh melted into a moan as Santana lightly moved her fingers. "Ohh, you don't fight fair, do you?" she smiled, pushing Santana back a bit to be able to unbutton her shirt.

"Especially in times like now," Santana smiled back, breathing heavier when Rachel's shirt fell open. When she felt Rachel tremble, Santana looked up to see a vulnerable expression crossing her face. "Rachel?" she asked quietly, straightening, moving her hand up to rest on Rachel's hip.

"It's silly of me," Rachel shook her head, letting out a deep breath of air. She leaned up and kissed Santana's chin, then grabbed both of Santana's hands to entwine with her own, not caring that one had just been cupping her.

Santana frowned. Shifting back, she dropped her head, squeezing Rachel's hand to make her meet her gaze. After a second, she gently tugged herself away and started wordlessly buttoning Rachel's shirt back up.

"San…?" Rachel asked quietly, lightly pressing her fingers into the back of Santana's hand. Not pushing hard enough to stop her, Santana let Rachel ride her up, then slid her hands up and around Rachel's shoulders, forcing Rachel to drop off. Cupping the tops of her arms, Santana pulled the other girl closer.

After Rachel relaxed into her, Santana brushed her lips against her cheek. "I get it," she whispered, smiling at the closed eye smile Rachel gave her back, sliding effortlessly into a smirk, "No bathroom sex for us yet." She drew back, capturing Rachel's lips, cutting off her response. Rachel pushed up to deepen the kiss, hands coming up to bury in Santana's hair. Her body vibrated against Santana's, and Santana groaned. As she ended the kiss, she husked, "Just wait until we get back to your house…"


	17. Chapter 17

"Querido, there's a small girl standing at our door."

"Oh?" From where he was sitting at the kitchen table studying some papers, Carlos Lopez looked up at his wife. "Well, then, shouldn't we let her in?"

Maria picked up her coffee cup, continuing to look out the window, "I would… Except I'm not sure she wants to come in. She's just… _Staring _at the door while wringing her hands."

"Okay, now you've made me curious." Setting his papers down, Carlos walked up behind Maria. "Hmm… Who do you think she's here for? Miguel? Or Santana?"

Maria pursed her lips. "Well, she's not exactly Miguel's type…"

Carlos grinned. "Is she Santana's?"

"Carlos!" Maria shot her husband an exasperated glare before turning back to the window, "You leave Santí alone. When she's ready to come out, she will. Before that, we should just be quietly supportive." Pausing, she tilted her head, "…Do _you _think she's Santí's type?"

Rolling his eyes, Carlos slipped his arms around Maria's waist and kissed the side of her head. "I don't know… She's very different than Brittany. Or Puck." He grimaced, "Still don't like that boy."

"At least they're not having sex anymore," Maria offered blandly, making a face of her own.

"Couldn't Santana have figured out she was gay _before _she slept with _that_…"

Maria turned and put a finger to his lips, "Nuh uh, honey, the only thing that matters is that Santana never got pregnant, and she's healthy."

He studied her eyes, then nodded. "Fine," he allowed. "You're right. …But I _really _don't wish to talk anymore about my little girl's sexual life. She's only _seventeen_," he whined.

"And you were?" Maria arched an eyebrow.

"Doesn't matter. Back to the girl." Carlos purposefully looked out the window again. "Yup, she's still there."

"Who's still where?" Miguel asked as he entered the kitchen. Heading over to the refrigerator, Maria and Carlos' oldest son pulled out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap, taking a gulp before joining them in front of the sink, "What – Mamí, Papí, you're being incredibly creepy right now. How long have you been staring at her?"

Maria and Carlos exchanged glances. Letting go of his wife's waist, Carlos turned to Miguel, "Is she here for you?"

Miguel raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind if she was," he slurped from the water bottle, "She's cute."

"So she's Santí's…" Maria hummed.

Miguel's other eyebrow joined the first at the top of his forehead, "She's Santana's girl? I thought Ardilla was seeing that dumb friend of hers." He took another look out of the window. "Pity… I'd totally bang that."

Carlos gave him an understanding smirk while Maria raised a hand, "Okay, mijo, _don't _need to hear that. And no. Brittany's dating that boy in the wheelchair… Arthur something."

"Hmm. That's a pity, too." He finished the water bottle. "…Okay, seriously? You're both just gonna stand here, staring at her? What if she looks over and s_ees _you?"

Carlos shook his head. "I highly doubt she will. She hasn't taken her eyes off of the door the whole time we've been watching her. Well… That, and the sky."

Giving his father a disbelieving scrunch of his eyebrows, Miguel gave the same to his mother when she just nodded. "Oh my god. You guys are insane." Tossing his water bottle into the recycling, he pulled down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, "However, sorry to ruin your fun, but _I'm_ going to go see what she wants."

"Oh, you're too late," Maria leaned closer to the window, "Santana just opened the door and – " She blinked, then rocked back onto her heels. "Okay! Show's over! Come on, Carlos, mijo, let's let the girls have some privacy." She ushered the two away.

"What? What?" "What's going on?" Her husband and son spoke over each other.

Chuckling nervously, Maria just pushed them the rest of the way out of the kitchen, "Let's just say that there's no doubt anymore if she's Santí's girl or not."


	18. Chapter 18

"Remember when I told you I was going to ask Brittany out?" Santana announced without preamble as she joined Rachel at her locker.

Rachel paused. Finishing putting her notebook away, she looked at Santana out of the corner of her eye. "I thought I was the one who told you to."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever. That's not the point."

"Okay." Shoving hair away from her face, Rachel asked the inside of her locker, "What is the point?"

"That I asked her."

Rachel paused again, then loudly shut her locker, "Congratulations. How was your date?"

Santana reached out to grab Rachel's arm to stop her from starting to storm down the hallway, "Hey! Rachel. Chill." Once sure she wasn't going to walk away, Santana leaned back and crossed her arms, "I didn't say we _went _on a date."

Rachel glared balefully at her, "She turned you down? I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Santana raised her eyebrows, "And no. She didn't. I did."

"What?"

"Yeah." Dropping her arms, Santana took a step closer. She ghosted her hand along Rachel's waist, making the smaller girl clutch her books to her chest, "I only asked her because you made me promise I would." The corners of her lips turned up, and Santana used her other hand to gently start playing with the ends of Rachel's hair, "My exact wording was something like, 'Brittany, I'm going to ask you out because I promised Rachel I would, but you and I both know I don't mean it. So, go out with me?'"

Rachel swallowed. "And what did she say?" she asked quietly.

"Does it matter?" Santana used the hand playing with Rachel's hair to slide up and tuck some of her grown out bangs behind her ear. Taking another step closer so her chest brushed against Rachel's crossed arms, she lowered her voice, "She knows how I feel about you."

A giant, unbelieving smile spread over Rachel's face, quickly smoothing away her hurt and anger. "Feel about me?"

Santana dipped her head, and without any hesitation, Rachel met her halfway. They kissed slowly, deeply, Rachel's mouth falling open under Santana's talented lips and tongue, her grip tightening on Rachel's waist.

As they both pulled away to suck in some needed air, Rachel's expression quickly sobered. "I like you," she whispered seriously.

In answer, Santana took her books away from her, transferring them to the crook of her arm. Then, putting her hand back on Rachel's waist, she tugged her forward so they stood flush together. "Of course you do," she whispered back, smiling smugly, "I'm just that bad ass. But you're lucky." She pressed a possessive kiss against Rachel's lips again, her arm snaking around Rachel's back, "I like you too."

Without saying anything, Rachel pushed forward to wrap her arms around Santana's shoulders. Quickly, they got lost in each other.

* * *

Down the hall, Quinn placed a comforting hand onto Brittany's arm, squeezing it affectionately. "Hey," she offered a small smile, "You did the right thing."

Brittany breathed in deeply, then dropped her shoulders. "I know," she closed her eyes and turned away. Her voice started to crack, "Rachel makes her happy."

Quinn nodded, then pulled Brittany into a hug. "But you know, B, this made Santana happy, too."

Squeezing Quinn tightly and burying her face into her hair, Brittany gave her a jerky nod. "I know," she repeated, unable to hold her tears back anymore, "That's why I let her go. San _deserves_ to be happy. And since it's Rachel who makes her happy, that…" She started crying, her arms cutting into Quinn's shoulders, "That makes _me _happy… Right?"

Quinn bit her lip, but didn't protest. Instead, she ran her hands up and down Brittany's back. "Right," she whispered, closing her eyes against the scene down the hallway, "That makes you happy." Ending up taking another glance at Santana and Rachel, she slammed her eyes shut again to give all her attention to her best friend, trying not to cry herself, "Makes _us _happy."


	19. Chapter 19

Santana watched as Jesse St. Douchebag left Rachel fighting back tears at her locker. Pausing the filing of her nails, she narrowed her eyes. Rachel was a control freak and incredibly annoying, but she didn't deserve the words the male prima donna had easily flung. In Santana's opinion, what Rachel had done had taken balls. It wasn't her fault sissy boys who believed the world revolved around them couldn't handle the perceived emasculation, Finn and Puck included.

Fuck propriety; someone needed to congratulate Rachel. Santana kicked off her locker and headed to the now quietly crying girl.

"My, my, Berry. Seems like pretty boy can't handle competition."

Rachel's eyes flicked over to her. "Santana, please, can we save your scathing yet predictable diatribes about my wardrobe or observations about my penchant for ruining all the relationships in my life for another time? I'd really like to be alone right now."

"Sure, and the middle of the hallway counts as 'alone'." Uncrossing her arms, Santana moved to Rachel's other side, making her shift to keep the cheerleader in her sight.

Rachel breathed in deeply through her nose, using one hand to pat her tears as she let the air out of her mouth. "You are correct," she swallowed, licking her lips, closing her eyes before finally meeting Santana's gaze. It didn't help; her eyes still looked red and glassy, splotches of color neon on her cheeks. "I should find better accommodation before I make a fool of myself."

"It's a little late for that," Santana drawled, looking Rachel up and down. Moving on quickly before her statement could be fully digested, she rested one hand on her hip, "I have to give you props, Man Hands. What you did, while executed _horribly _and as tacky as Mr. Schue's endless supply of vests, was badass. Congratulations."

"Congratulations?" Rachel shook her head, lower lip trembling, "Why should I be _congratulated _for driving a wedge between Jesse and me? Because of my pursuit of popularity and need to be seen as some kind of… Of _harlot_, in some misplaced hope that my standings on the Glist would improve, I've irreplaceably damaged our relationship." She sniffled again, eyelashes shaking with the effort to keep tears back.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, while I could care less about all that," she studied her nails, barely glancing up at Rachel, "And I can't help but enjoy the utter and total car wreck between you two – in fact, it's like an honest to god soap opera and I want to take shots every time either of you throw a diva fit – I figured someone should applaud you on your _shameless_ exploitation."

"I'm pretty sure there wasn't any praise in there."

An arrogant smile slid across Santana's face. "That's because there wasn't," she answered.

"Of course not," Rachel sighed. "What do you want, Santana?"

Santana dropped her hand and rested it onto her hip again. "That's it. Just wanted to remind you of the colossal fuck-up that you've made of your relationship. Tell me," she tilted her head, "Was it worth it?"

When Rachel opened her mouth, Santana put a hand up to stop her, "No, rhetorical question. I really don't care." Spying Brittany down the hall, she knew she should start wrapping things up. Turning back to Rachel, she stepped in close, enjoying the instinctual flinch the girl experienced at her proximity. "What I _do_ care about," she lowered her voice, "Is that Finnept, Puck, and St. Jackass? They can all go fuck themselves."

Then, enjoying the look of pure confusion crossing Rachel's face, she sauntered away, dark, incredulous eyes following her the whole way.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **I have no idea what I'm writing anymore.

* * *

Rachel was flipping through her assigned English reading when her father knocked on her door. "Hun?" he poked his head in after she called for him to enter, "There's a girl at the door, asking for you."

Lowering the book, Rachel smiled widely before her eyebrows slammed down. "Wait – this girl actually used my name and not 'female occupant of this residence'?"

Jonathon laughed, shaking his head. "No, dear," he pulled the door open wider to take an actual step into her room, "She – and I quote – said, 'Hello. Is… Is Rachel in?'" He put an emphasis on the pause, then smirked at her, "She seemed nervous. Is quite attractive, too. So, share! Share! You find yourself a lady suitor?"

Rachel blushed, looking a tad mortified. Setting the book down onto the bed, she pushed off to slide off, and straightened, pulling her shirt down. "_No_, Dad," she tugged down the sleeves of her sweater, avoiding looking at him, "Just because I recently… _Opened up_ about my appreciation for the female… Form… And that I would not be _adverse _to engaging in a lesbian relationship if presented with the opportunity and the feelings were present, does _not _mean I have my eye on anyone."

Raising a finger to his lips, Jonathon winked at her, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Well…" he tapped his lip, "This girl may have her eye on _you_."

Ignoring his last comment, Rachel started for the door and hallway following it. "Who is it?"

Jonathon grinned to himself, falling into step behind her. "She didn't say. But she's stunning."

"_Okay_, Dad, _enough_. She's attractive. That doesn't help me! Assuming she's a member of glee – as they are the only people who know or bother to remember my name, every one of the girls is attractive in their own right."

"Oh?"

Rachel got the impression her father got too much pleasure out of her newly admitted bisexuality. Assuming he had shown her visitor to the living room, she figured she had some time to elaborate and humor him. "Though it is not the style I would choose for myself, Tina Cohen-Chang wears her goth identity well, and she has a beautiful smile. Mercedes Jones has a very attractive fuller figure and pretty eyes. I suppose I can classify Quinn Fabray as the quintessential 'All American Girl', and she's certainly gorgeous – both Finn and Puck's interest can attest to that. Brittany… You know, I still don't know her last name? Anyway." Rachel waved her hand, moving on as she came to the top of the staircase, "Brittany has an amazing figure – all her dancing classes have _certainly_ done her well – and her smile is beautiful and infectious." She took a breath, pausing to gather her thoughts. Despite her noble words, there _was _a girl she found very… Pleasing.

"Hmm." Looking at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, Jonathon quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't there _another _girl in your club? …Yes. You only mentioned four."

Rachel averted her gaze, cursing the blush she could feel starting to rise on her cheeks. "Yes," she cleared her throat, sliding her hand down the banister and reaching the bottom of the stairs. The living room was still a little ways away, but she slowed her speed anyway. "There is another girl. Santana Lopez."

"And is _she _attractive?"

"_Dad_!" Rachel hissed, jerking her head around to glare at him.

"What?" He raised his hands and eyebrows, smirking cheekily at her, "As a homosexual male, I can still appreciate female beauty."

Rachel made a face. "You _do _realize that inquiring about the physical beauty of my classmates makes you sound like a pedophile?"

Jonathon blanched violently, dropping his mouth open to splutter out an indignant, "Well excuse _me_, young lady! See if I'll ever set you up with any eligible girls, then."

"I didn't want you to do that anyway!" Rachel snapped back. Shaking her head, she stalked forward, putting a well-timed stop to the conversation. They were just coming upon the living room, and that was really not something she wanted anyone listening to. Clearing the doorframe, Rachel's eyes immediately flew towards the figure seated on the couch.

She almost swallowed her tongue.

"Rachel."

Rachel drew up short. "Sa-Santana."

Santana made a show of drawing in a deep breath and crossing her arms. Wide smirk spreading across her lips, she raised an eyebrow. "Eligible girls, huh?"

"You heard that."

"Mmhm."

Staring at the other girl, Rachel's mind raced. Finally, she squared her shoulders, deciding to forge ahead. "What are you doing here, Santana?"

"Oh, I see." Dropping her chin, Santana hummed and lowered her hand to tap her fingernails against her thigh. "Just going to pretend I didn't just hear something incredibly gay?"

"Right. What are you _doing_ here, Santana?" Rachel repeated, slowly taking a seat on the opposite couch. She clasped her hands in her lap. "I have a very busy schedule, and I do not have much time. So if you're here for no reason, I'm sorry but I'll have to see you out – "

Santana got up in the middle of her speech. Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she wagged her finger in Rachel's face and slid onto the cushion next to her. Uncomfortably close.

Rachel swallowed.

"Hmm. You know what I think?" Santana smirked, lowering her voice as she leaned in close enough so Rachel could smell her perfume.

Rachel's eyes met Santana's, and she licked her lips. She wasn't quite sure what was going on. Santana couldn't be… _Flirting _with her, right? "No, I don't know what you think. I may have a sixth sense, but I cannot read minds. Now, do you have a point? I apologize for being so abrupt, but I _really _cannot just sit here."

Santana's smirk widened. "You know," she lowered her voice, ignoring her and raising a hand to slooooowly set it onto Rachel's leg, near her laced hands, "You've made this incredibly easy for me." Her thumb started to brush back and forth against the fabric of Rachel's skirt.

"Santana…?"

"Tell me." Santana's other fingers moved up to push hair behind the ear she was whispering into; Rachel shivered, and she almost jumped away at Santana's next words, "Am I eligible enough?"


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Santana's bad mouth makes an appearance in this one. Blame her - she wanted to be disgruntled and petulant for a bit.

* * *

Santana never wanted to drink alcohol again.

…Okay, that was a total, bald-faced lie. She never wanted to drink alcohol with _cough syrup _in it again. 'Cuz that shit was _nasty_. And fucked with her head.

Only… 24 hours after she was _sure _no more cough syrup crap remained in her system, the head fuckery was still going on. And it was not. Cool.

She was dating Sam! Lady Lips aside, he was one hot piece of man meat. So _why_…

Why the hell was she lusting after Yentl Man Hands Jewberry if it wasn't caused by cough syrup? 'Cuz that was when the lusting started, right? At the assembly (_before _B yakked on her, fucking disgusting [she wasn't going to talk about her own expelling]), buzzed and presented with Rachel in clothing she'd hardly seen her wearing before, downing cough syrup and god knows what (crumbled up Oreos, _really_?). That was when. Had to be.

God damn stupid cough syrup! Next time Santana got sick (pshh; _as if_ – Santana _never _got sick), she'd suck on lozenges instead. Berry flavored ones, 'cuz those were her favorite.

…_Berry _flavored. _Jesus Christ_! Get out of her _head_, already!

_Ur full of shit, satan_, Puck texted.

_Well, fuck u 2, FUCKerman_, Santana responded, snapping her phone shut. _That _was helpful.

_Nice. Next time u wanna talk 2 me, dont._

_Wasnt plannin on it. Call you ishmael, fucker._

Puck didn't bother answering that. Tiny dicked whale lovin' bastard.

…Okay, Santana wasn't in the best of moods. But _dammit_, Puck wasn't supposed to _laugh _at her cough syrup grievances!

Maybe Quinn would get it, what with her issues with wine coolers. Oh, no, fuck that. She'd just stolen her boyfriend. Bitch would just harp on her about that, and Santana was _not _in the mood. If anyone was going to do harp, it should be Santana herself.

Come to think of it, it'd been a while. Damn. Time to make some damn angels _bleed_.

Angels… Angels…

Mmm… She and Brittany had _totally _rocked the shit out of their angel roles in _Run Joey Run_.

_Fuuuuuuck_. Again: Berry. Was there _nothing _that didn't have to do with that hobbit?


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **Yeah... No, I really don't have anything to explain this story. It just is.

* * *

Rachel was in the middle of changing her books for the start of school when someone strode up to her, strumming an acoustic guitar. Lifting her head from her locker, Rachel's mouth dropped open. Instead of Puck or Sam or even Finn she found herself distractedly expecting, Santana hummed as her fingers plucked out a lazy tune. Watching her, waiting for the other girl to _do_ something, Rachel finally shut her locker and turned fully towards her. "Santana? Are you… Do you have a _reason_… May I ask you why you're standing here with a very dramatic air of expectation?"

Santana shook her head, a smile curling the corners of her lips up. "Nope, Berry," she leaned forward, smoothly swinging up and back to fall in step beside her, slinging the guitar behind her back. Slipping her hands into the pockets of her overalls, she shrugged languidly, "Just ignore me until you feel like expressing yourself in song."

Rachel stared at her. "I'm sorry? Did I just hear you right? You're going to… _Follow _me around until I start to sing?"

"Well, _I'm_ sure as hell not going to start randomly singing in the halls. No one's done that since sophomore year. I figure that if anyone were to do it again, it'd be you. So!" Santana clapped her hands, giving Rachel what could have easily been a smirk just as much as a smile, "What'll it be? Power ballad? Pop hit? Something obnoxiously Jewish?"

Opening her mouth, Rachel paused and shook her head. Shifting her books in her arms, she started towards her first period. As she half expected, Santana fell into step with her. "Though I am not sure your assessment of my spontaneous singing was flattering or mocking, I must say that if this is not a dreadful prank of some kind, I am appreciative for the acknowledgment of my enthusiasm." When she took a breath and turned to look at Santana to see her reaction, her face scrunched up, "Santana?"

"Yes…?" With her eyebrow raised and the guitar back in her hands, her fingers poised on the strings, Santana looked for all intents and purposes as if she was going to suddenly burst into song herself. She tilted her head, "Oh, you're not going to sing? I thought for sure you were just getting ready for some High School Musical kumbayas. You certainly got the lead-in speeches down." Full on smirk across her lips, she looked back towards where they were heading, pushing the guitar back again. "Just give me a five second warning, kay? Santana Lopez does not slack on the guitarin'."

Clenching her eyes shut and opening them again, breathing in deeply, Rachel threw her hair over her shoulder. There was just something about this whole situation that aggravated her, but she hadn't figured out _why_ yet. "I didn't even _know_ you played guitar," she started, "And if you're planning on providing back-up to any song I _may_ decide to sing, I feel I must tell you that I would only accept someone well versed and better than adequate for the position."

"Got to tell ya, Berry, but you're not being very gracious."

"_Gracious_?" Rachel stopped again, voice rising, "How can I be thankful for something that I'm not even sure is a good thing? You just walk up to me with a guitar, and just… _Expect _me to accept it without question?"

Santana shrugged, both eyebrows raised. "Why not?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"Okay, obviously I gave you too much credit." Sighing and pushing her hair back with one hand, Santana took a step back to be able to better take Rachel in, "And here I thought you were someone who would take any excuse to perform. You know what I think?" She leaned forward, hands on her hips, "For all your big words, you're just a coward, Berry."

"_Excuse _me?"

"Just a yellow-bellied coward. I come here, offering my services – which, by the way, happen to be fuckin' _awesome_ – but you're just conjuring up as many excuses as you can. I am _disappointed _in you." She shook her head, straightening, "So disappointed." Turning around, she threw a hand up in a lazy wave over her shoulder, the guitar shifting on her back, "Find me when you start being the diva you always claim to be."

"_Hey_! Santana!" Frowning deeply, Rachel stormed up to catch her; she ducked around the guitar and grabbed Santana's arm, yanking her around, "I have no idea what game you're trying to play, but I don't appreciate it."

Completely unimpressed eyes looked down at her. Getting her arm back in a quick, snappy motion, Santana settled into an equally unimpressed crossed arm stance. "Do you honestly think I would risk looking like a busker for a _game_? Granted, I would make busking look smokin' _hot_, but _no_." She took a step forward, eyes flashing with satisfaction when Rachel unconsciously took a step backwards, only to roll up as she reached out to grab Rachel's arm to tug her back before she ran into Miss Pillsbury. Shooting the guidance counselor a mocking smile and watching until she disappeared down the hall, she turned back to Rachel, "Listen up. I may have been offering my services out of thin air, but it's not for no reason."

Rachel, red still bright across her cheeks, straightened. "And are you going to _tell_ me your reason?"

Santana smirked. "No. And Berry?" She flipped her hair and started turning around again, "Deal with it." Then, with a hand steadying the guitar on her back, she walked off again.

Even if the bell hadn't rung at that moment, Rachel didn't know if she would have followed her. Instead, she glared at the girl's back with annoyance, huffed, and hurried to her first class, books hugged close to her chest.

* * *

To her surprise, Santana showed up to collect her after her class. She would have chalked it up to them both having the same class next period and the other girl just happening to be there when she left the room, but Santana had the guitar in her hands and a smug smile on her face, languidly stepping away from the wall next to the door the second Rachel stepped through it.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Rachel offered smartly.

"Why? I told you I'd be here. Didn't think you were _that _dense."

Shaking her head, Rachel realized something. "Hey, where are your books? Backpack? Even if you are acting apart from my wishes, I will _not _be responsible for your failing academics!"

Santana sighed. Shaking her head in a mimic of Rachel's motion, she dropped the guitar, holding the neck in one hand. Expertly weaving in and out of the crowd and slipping a little bit in front of Rachel, unconsciously leaving a pocket for Rachel to follow in safety, Santana glared mildly at her, "Brittany has my junk. I'm covered. And why do you care about my 'academics' anyway?" She snorted. "No, just worry about singing."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "I '_care_' because if you do not have satisfactory enough grades, you cannot remain in glee club, and therefore we would have to find another, possibly less skilled, member." She paused, oddly satisfied at the quick look Santana shot her, "This is a bet, isn't it?"

"Nope." Santana looked away as she popped the p.

"Then you lost a bet!"

"Not right, either."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Nuh-uh. Give up, Hobbit."

Rachel grumbled, not amused in the least by Santana's brevity.

* * *

After that class, in which Rachel spent the whole time avoiding looking back at the dark eyes that burned into her, Rachel barely acknowledged Santana at all when the girl with the conspicuous guitar exited the classroom right behind her.

She almost started singing just to spite her. Almost. Just to call her bluff. But instead, continuing to glance over at the studiously unconcerned girl while giving her a disturbed look, she finally sighed and shook her head. "Makes no sense at _all_," she muttered.

Santana smirked at her. "We can't have everything we want, now can we? I mean, _I _can, of course, but you can't."

Rachel barely held back a sigh of frustration. "So what do you propose I do, then?"

The infuriating smirk just deepened.

* * *

Rachel managed to hold in most of her growing aggravation even through lunch when Santana forced Tina to give up her seat next to her, being as obnoxious as she could be without addressing anyone's stares. Rachel managed to hold it in even through her last three classes before glee club. It wasn't until Santana followed her into the choir room that Rachel whirled around as soon as they crossed the threshold. "Alright!" she exclaimed, stomping forward to get into Santana's space, "This is _enough_! Tell me what it is you are _doing_!"

Looking down at her, head cocked lightly to the side and lips pursed, Santana leaned in close. "Congratulations," she lowered her voice, using one hand to pull the guitar strap off of her shoulder and making her way around Rachel to set the guitar down near the piano, "I'll never tell." Then, pointing at Rachel as she turned to walk towards the chairs, she threw over her shoulder, "One of these days you're going to sing for me, Berry. But for now…" She sat down and crossed her legs, arms following a second later, "You're just a damn coward." She shook her head. "_So_ disappointed."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **This one really isn't Pezberry (or, rather, it could be but it's not stated explicitly), but I've stared at it for almost a year now and there's nothing more I can do with it. It just is what it is and what it is is what it is. So I'm dumping it here. You have my permission to go ahead and imagine some sweeping romantic back story. That's what I do.

* * *

When Santana showed up with a black eye, nobody commented.

When Santana limped into glee an hour late, her lip and eyebrow split, eyebrows raised.

When Santana showed up with one wrist sprained and two fingers broken on the other hand, tongues wagged.

When Santana started missing Cheerio practice due to injury, no one could believe it.

* * *

Looking up through dark eyelashes, HBIC sneer in place, Santana glowered at Quinn and Brittany.

Quinn's arms were crossed, a preemptive stubborn expression on her face, Brittany's hands worrying each other at her waist, a pink lip caught between her teeth. The two blondes had cornered Santana after class, angled perfectly to prevent her from escaping.

"S. Spill," Quinn's tone brooked no argument.

"There's nothing to spill."

"Bullshit!" Quinn spat out, her anger getting control of her mouth, "You really expect us to believe that?"

Brittany nodded. "Do you?" she asked, eyes sad and big.

A pained expression crossed Santana's face, but she leaned back confidently, snorting. "You can believe whatever you want; I don't give a fuck. I'm not your mother to tell you what to think." She focused her eyes onto the wall over Quinn's shoulder.

"S – I can't believe I'm saying this – but I'm _worried _about you. What are – why all the – seriously Santana, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks. Should I feel honored that the great Quinn Fabray's _concerned _about me?"

"S, stop it!" Brittany whispered roughly, "Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Us," Quinn muttered, but didn't say anything else when Santana's blazing eyes glared at her.

" – Aren't we best friends? Best friends don't keep secrets."

Santana shifted on the chair. "Of course we are, B. But it's not that simple."

"Can't you let me decide that?"

Soft fingers brushed lightly against Santana's cheek, making Santana grit her teeth. Catching Brittany's wrist, she squeezed it before pushing her away.

At Brittany's hurt whimper, Quinn snapped. "Alright, _that_'_s _it! What the _hell is going on_?" Taking a step forward, she made to slam her hands down onto Santana's shoulders, but the girl reared up before she could.

"Do _not _lay a hand on me, Q!" she hissed, crushing the forearm she had grabbed with punishing strength. Using her arm as leverage, Santana pushed forward. Stumbling into Brittany as she tried to twist away from the harsh grip, Quinn only had time to make an outraged growl before Santana disappeared out of the classroom.


	24. Chapter 24

Brittany's hand was suddenly on her knee. Without making any outward indication that she had noticed it, Rachel flicked her gaze down, quickly glanced up at Brittany's face, then turned back to the movie. Though she had an idea it wasn't quite innocent, her blonde friend could also just need a place to rest her hand. …Right?

Five minutes later, Santana's thigh pushed against hers. Moving her gaze over to the other girl and seeing that her attention was still on the movie, Rachel furrowed her brow for a second before smoothing her expression. There was nothing overt about the action, and Santana did seem maybe a little more comfortable than before, so Rachel forced herself to ignore the coincidence.

Suddenly Brittany's head fell onto her shoulder. Giving her a happy smile, the blonde snuggled in a little bit, her body warm, the weight comfortable. Relaxing her muscles, Rachel decided it felt nice and girls did this when they hung out, right? so she only gave Brittany a shy smile and let the smell of Brittany's shampoo waft over her.

When Santana took over her other shoulder, Rachel froze. With both…? "G-girls?" she stuttered, clearing her throat, "Is there something I should know…?"

"Shh." Shaking her head, her hair soft against Rachel's neck as it brushed back and forth, Santana settled a hand onto her unoccupied knee. "Just go with it."

Santana used different shampoo. Breathing shallowly, Rachel blinked as she started to catalog the similarities and differences that were Santana and Brittany pressed up against her sides, warm and solid and… Nice? Idly, she wondered why she didn't feel smothered or crowded.

Twenty minutes went by, both girls cuddled up against her, lulling Rachel into a sense of security. But again, belatedly, Rachel recognized that the slight tickling feeling on her hand resting on her thigh was from Santana's fingers softly trailing up her leg to start drawing circles on and around her knuckles. "Santana?" she whispered, but Santana cut her off with another unconcerned, "Shh."

Brittany shifted, making a small noise, and Rachel allowed herself to get distracted from her questioning. Santana's fingernails made funny feelings coil in her stomach, but again, it didn't seem scary or overtly threatening. Just nice. …Exciting. Exciting and nice.

She kept on repeating that mantra as Brittany and Santana slowly continued pushing their limits.

By the end of the movie, Brittany's leg was thrown over Rachel, her hand laced with Rachel's, and she was nuzzling Rachel's neck. Santana had thrown away all intents and purposes of paying attention to the movie half an hour before, the hand having been on Rachel's having slipped under Rachel's shirt to stroke back and forth on her stomach instead. She'd also pulled Rachel more towards her, supporting both Rachel and Brittany's weight on her front, bending a knee behind Rachel's back to settle her firmly against her. Rachel was breathing shallowly, eyes glued on the credits, stifling breathy gasps as she chewed on her lower lip.

From where her head was using Santana's chest as a pillow, arm wrapped around Santana's waist to help keep her grounded and balanced, Rachel squeaked when it became obvious Brittany had brought her lips into play along Rachel's neck. "You taste good," the blonde whispered, sounding pleased and happy, Santana chuckling a second later. Slipping her hand out from under Rachel's shirt, she pushed Rachel's chin up with a knuckle so she could meet her gaze. "How is this?" Santana asked, eyes shuttered and full of innuendo. It was a loaded question.

Rachel closed her eyes. Body tensing unconsciously as she thought quickly about all the things she was feeling and what it undoubtedly meant, she realized that even if she felt a little unsure and awkward and shy and overwhelmed, she also felt…

"Nice," she murmured, holding her breath, "This… Feels nice."

It was a loaded answer, but one that both Santana and Brittany understood what it meant. That made Rachel glad. She didn't think she would have been able to say exactly what she meant out loud.

The rest of the night, Santana, Brittany, and Rachel ended up watching several movies. With each consecutive one, Rachel had to adjust her definition of the word nice; everything she knew before was woefully incomplete. When that word inevitably wore out its usefulness, Brittany and Santana were only too happy to help continue to expand her vocabulary, promising to help for as long as Rachel wanted them to. And since Rachel was one to always strive for the best of her strengths and abilities, she was happy to know that was going to be a long, long time indeed.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **Immediate follow up to Pieces number 66.

* * *

Shoulders tensing, Rachel nervously scanned the coffee shop before looking back at her. "Lower your _voice_," she hissed uncomfortably.

"Lower my – _lower my voice_?" Santana spat back, shoving the empty cup away, "My girlfriend of three _years _tells me she wants to break up, and you're fucking telling me to _lower my voice_?"

"Well, _you_'_re _the one who told me we should take a break," Rachel angrily retorted, red spreading over her cheeks.

"_Rachel_!" Santana's voice cracked, "That was because – ! I _told_ you why."

"And I couldn't _help _you?" Rachel's lower lip trembled, and she shook her head, "I was in the _way_?"

Santana stared at her. "Rache… _Rache_," she closed her eyes, taking in a deep, shuddering breath, "Baby, _no_. You didn't understand." Snapping her eyes open before Rachel could take off on her, a betrayed edge entered her voice, "And you break up with me without _asking_? You break up with me just because I ask for a break? _Break_. Not _break **up**_."

Wincing at the shrillness of her tone and blinking back tears that had welled up, Rachel crushed her hands to her mouth, shaking her head and hunching over the table. "That's not all, okay?" she gasped, not looking at Santana, swallowing and swallowing again. "I just – it wasn't working."

Santana's face became stony. "I see," she cleared her throat, sitting forward enough to slide her coffee cup back into her hand, "It's not about the break. It's about not working." She stood, shoving back her chair and pausing with her hand still on the table, "It wasn't working. _What wasn't working_?"

Rachel shook her head, not answering.

Santana's anger flared. "What, Rachel? Stop being a bitch and answer me! Fuck it, you _owe _me this."

Rachel snapped her head up. "I _owe _you this?" she repeated. "I… _Us_, Santana!" she emphasized forcefully, standing up to meet Santana, "_We_. _We_ weren't working."

"_What_ about us?"

"_Everything_!" Throwing her hands out and slamming them down onto the table, eyes narrowed in pain and anger and sadness and desperation, Rachel jerked her head back and forth. "Everything. Didn't you _see_ that? We weren't… We just…" She lowered her voice, "We just don't…" Tears rose. "Fit… Anymore."

"That is _not _an answer, Rachel!" Santana cut her off. Violently swiping at the tears that had started trickling down her face, she took in a deep breath. "You have something to say, say it. Right here. Now. In this café. Look me in the eye." She jabbed her finger in Rachel's direction, uncurling her fist to sweep it across the space in front of her to encompass the café, then bringing it back to herself, "Look me in the eye, and tell me."

"Santana – "

"No. Tell me," Santana repeated, looking fiercer and fiercer as more tears welled and fell, her voice getting hoarse and uneven, "Rachel. You have to. _Rachel_…" Her voice broke.

Staring at her, tears falling as well, Rachel jerked, trembled, looked away, and swallowed. She nodded. Using her fist to dash away enough moisture so she could keep her eyes open, she met Santana's broken gaze, and opened her mouth.


	26. Chapter 26

_Oh oh oh oh oh oh / Please be **pretending**…_

About to close her eyes and turn away, wanting to finish the song as fast as she could because there was a strange expression on Finn's face and a look in his eyes that made uncomfortable feelings well up in her stomach, Rachel suddenly found Finn's arms wrapped around her, her body pulled into his, and his mouth capturing hers. Freezing in surprise, acutely aware of the determined lips sliding along hers, her mind raced.

Wrenching herself away, Rachel only had a split second to decide if slapping him would do any _more _damage to their performance, but seeing the stupid goofy expression on her ex-boyfriend's face decided it for her. Taking a step backwards and rolling her weight into her movement, she drew her arm back and slapped Finn as hard as she could. Glaring at him, she did an about-face and stomped as stately as she could to her mark for the next song.

As the ringing silence slowly turned into the swelling introduction to _Light Up the World_, Rachel forced a very wide, very bright smile onto her face, squaring her shoulders against the hot stares she could _feel _on her. Then she was moving smoothly with the choreography, singing and smiling as beautifully as she could while meeting her glee club members' gazes without shame. However, the second the music ended and the lights dimmed, Rachel strode off the stage. Pushing past Finn who tried to stop her, she made for the nearest bathroom.

Tears spilled out of her eyes the second the door shut behind her. A second later, the door clanged open again. "I didn't want – _umhn_!" Santana's mouth crashed down onto hers. Possessively swallowing her words and breath and surrounding her completely, Santana didn't let her go until her lips were swollen and her arms were sore from the stranglehold she had around Santana's neck.

"_Mine_," Santana growled, barely moving back enough to give Rachel room to respond.

"_Yours_," Rachel gasped back, digging her fingernails into the back of Santana's neck as she pulled her into another kiss. "_Always_ yours."


	27. Chapter 27

Long fingers slid across her wrist, tangling with hers as she was tugged into Brittany's bedroom. Warm lips covered her own, sharp teeth nipping at her lower lip, insistent hands running up and down her body after pressing her back against the door. A strong body stepped into her, and she moaned, opening her mouth, accepting the tongue that slipped between her lips.

"Ohh, babe, you make me so hot…" a lust deepened voice breathed raggedly into her ear, wet kisses turning into licks and nibbles up and down her jawline.

Whimpering, Rachel arched into her girlfriend, canting her hips upwards so they pushed assuredly into the ones above her. She struggled half-heartedly against the hands holding hers captive on either side of her body, more to enjoy the feeling of being restrained than actually trying to escape.

Chuckling, Santana moved back a fraction of an inch to smirk at her, swooping back in to kiss her solidly even as she dropped Rachel's wrists. Sliding sure hands down, she tensed her grip on strong thighs, hoisting the smaller girl up so she had to wrap her legs around her waist. Gasping at the sudden move, Rachel pressed herself solidly against her. "While this is nice," she muttered into Santana's mouth, sucking on her girlfriend's lower lip, "I am sure Brittany wouldn't appreciate us denting her door."

"She wouldn't care if she could watch," Santana grinned, but slid one arm around Rachel's lower back, using her free hand to push back against the wood to shove them backwards.

"Well too bad," Rachel moaned, grinding into her stomach as she clutched the back of Santana's head and shoulders to help keep herself up, "I don't want her remembering what she's missing." When Santana dropped them onto Brittany's bed, she squealed, quickly taking the opportunity to roll on top of her. Biting down on Santana's lower lip, she purred and arched as strong hands started kneading and stroking her back and sides, Santana's legs tangling with hers.

"Or wanting what she can't have," Santana agreed, palming Rachel's ass and arching up into her. "Though," she gasped, moaning in the back of her throat when Rachel's sharp teeth bit down again, "I think she's surprisingly happy with Tina."

Rachel froze. "What?" she pushed herself up, staring down at her girlfriend. "_Tina_?"

Pouting at the loss of Rachel's mouth, Santana propped herself up on her elbows. Looking up through mack-mussed bangs, she reached out to tug Rachel back down, pressing a kiss to her chin. "You didn't know?" she mumbled, trailing her mouth up.

Rachel kissed her back distractedly. "Tina?" she asked again, brow furrowed.

Santana sighed. "Yes, Tina." Anticipating her girlfriend's next question, she tried one more time to get Rachel back into the mood by hooking her fingers into the bottom of Rachel's shirt, starting to tug it up, "They got together two weeks ago."

Dipping her head and shifting to help Santana strip her, Rachel gave Santana an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry. I guess I just, well, I'm just… Surprised, that's all. I wouldn't have thought that would have happened." She kissed Santana deeply, sitting up to unclasp her bra; when Santana reached up to cup her breasts, brushing her thumbs confidently over her nipples, she moaned, dropping her head back. "I mean, I was aware of Tina's bi – _mmm_ – sexuality after she inadvertently came on to me the summer of sophomore year, but I'd thought she'd made up her – _oh_ - her mind when she became so involved with Mike."

Santana's eyebrows rose. "She came onto you?" she asked, leaning forward to replace her hands with her mouth, sliding her hands down to start stroking her back and waist. Shivering against her, Rachel gasped and wrapped her arms around Santana's shoulders, only to frown and pull back at the feeling of Santana's shirt. "Off," she stated determinedly, stopping Santana so she could pull her shirt and the camisole underneath off. As she did so, she finally answered, distracted by Santana's naked chest, her eyes darkening, "Oh, yes." Her voice getting thick again, she shifted between Santana's legs to push her back, Santana's hands moving down to palm her hips, "If I recall correctly, she even kissed me."

"_Kissed _you?" That made Santana freeze, halting with her fingers in the waistband of Rachel's underwear.

"Almost two years ago," Rachel smiled, bucking her hips to remind Santana of what she was doing, rocking against her as incentive, "And I was with Finn at the time, so it didn't mean anything. She was just sad over Artie ignoring her."

Santana made a face. Quickly slipping Rachel's boy shorts down, she urged Rachel towards her head, reaching up to grab a pillow to put under her neck and hunching downwards at the same time. "Ew. Finn. Artie. No, keep your skirt on. It helps fuel my schoolgirl fantasy."

"Schoolgirl – " Gasping at the sudden touch of Santana's tongue to her soaked lips, Rachel had to reach out to support herself against the headboard, her thighs tensing around Santana's head. "_San_! So _sudden_!"

Santana smirked. Circling her tongue around Rachel's clit and dragging it down to spread her leaking arousal, she mumbled loudly, "Oh, you love it."

Rachel jerked, keening. "Okay," she sucked in a breath, having to clench her abs to not grind down into Santana, "You're right. I – _ohh_, I _d-o-o-o_…"

* * *

" – _So **sudden**_!"

Standing outside Brittany's room, with their ears pressed against the door, Brittany turned to Tina. "You kissed Rachel?" she asked curiously.

Tina blushed. "Uhm… Yeah?"

"Oh. Okay." Leaning forward, Brittany kissed the shorter girl reassuringly, humming happily when her girlfriend wrapped her arms around waist in response. Pulling back, she pressed a quick kiss to Tina's nose, grinning, "I'll tell you a secret – I've kissed Rachel, too. Now!" Stepping away, she slid her hand down to wrap around Tina's, "Let's go into my parents' room since S and Rache stole my bed. I want to get my sweet lady kisses, too!"


	28. Chapter 28

The light was burning her eye through her eyelid. Washes of noise slowly turning into a soothing voice singing near the top of her head, she became conscious of a warm weight surrounding her hand. Letting out an involuntary moan when pain settled in her skull, the singing cut off.

"Hey," the voice from before bent closer, the warmth around her hand tightening, "Are you with us?"

Instinctually refocusing her awareness in the direction of the presence, she almost exhausted herself by issuing a weak, "Uehh…" She couldn't move without pain searing ruthlessly throughout her head and neck, but she didn't want to slip back under into the heavy confusion that beat at the edges of her consciousness.

A previously unnoticed presence shifted somewhere on her other side, a thick, fatigued voice curling around her ears before echoing away, "I'll go find a nurse."

The warmth left her hand to move past her forehead, stopping to press hesitantly into the skin above her opposite eyebrow, a second later trailing down her cheek. As more of her consciousness resurfaced, she began to understand that something hot and tight was wrapped around most of her head, leaving only that one eye uncovered. "Can you open your eye?" the person asked lightly, what was now recognizable as her thumb softly stroking her exposed cheekbone.

Disoriented, unsure if she was even trying to open both or just the one asked for, the instinctual gasp of air she took when her lungs reminded her she had to breathe tensed her muscles in a cascade effect. Sudden red slicing through her eye as pain wrenched it open, a loud relieved sob met her ears. Fighting against giving in to heavy, weak eyelids and an intoxicating, beckoning unconsciousness, she barely registered flooded brown eyes before the red-tinged darkness reclaimed her.

A storm of emotion seared into her brain, she lost to unrelenting engulfing sleep, warm lips and a whispered, "I'll be here when you wake up, Santana. I promise," softly brushing across her eyelid, escorting her down.


	29. Chapter 29

At the end of her let's-go-out-as-friends-while-secretly-watching-you-to-see-if-you-feel-anything-romantic-like-I-do date she had set up after growing closer to and accepting the fact that she was attracted to Santana, Rachel was thoroughly discouraged. Santana had been her normal confident, flirty self, equal parts attentive and selfish, but every time Rachel's heart would start beating harder at the look in Santana's eyes or the tone of her voice, the taller girl would suddenly change the subject or make a scathing insult at one of the people around them. In some ways, Rachel sighed, looking down at her almost empty cup of tea, it was worse than when she was out with Santana in a group setting. At least then she knew her place.

"No, Rache," Santana sat forward, leaning over the table, "There is _nothing _you can say that will convince me that vegan nutella is just as good as normal nutella."

Rachel leaned forward to mirror her. "Have you even _tried _my recipe? No, I thought you hadn't." Lifting her watch, she glanced at it, then returned her gaze to Santana. She grinned, "I believe I have all the ingredients I need at home. Are you interested in coming over?"

Santana studied her intently, before dropping her eyes and shrugging. Sitting back in her seat, she picked up her coffee. "Will your fathers be there?"

Blinking, mind racing as she tried to figure out what Santana _meant_, Rachel shook her head, "No…? They're on one of their weekend trips to Columbus."

"And you didn't think to have a party?" Santana stared at her.

"Not everyone wishes to get drunk each weekend. And I happen to be one of those people. Besides, you remember the _last _party I had." Rachel certainly did. She'd had enough liquid courage to accept Brittany's invitation to dance with her and Santana, which had eventually ended up with two very drunk brunettes grinding almost exclusively. It had been hot and exciting and amazing, and the only reason Rachel hadn't yelled 'to heck with it!' and grabbed Santana to drag her into her room, virginity be damned, was because a well-timed stumble by Finn had broken them apart. She suspected he'd done it on purpose (being, after all, one of the loudest dissenters of her growing friendship with Santana), but she wasn't quite sure if she was thankful or angry he had done so.

A ghost of a smile flowed over Santana's mouth. "I do." Then, with a slight pause, she rubbed the pad of her pinky against the side of her coffee cup and looked straight into Rachel's eyes, "Alright. I'll come over."

A blush coming to Rachel's cheeks, she dipped her head, smiling shyly, "Okay."

Suddenly, a shadow fell over their table. "Hi… Sorry to interrupt, but we're about to close shop."

Rachel blinked. Really? "Oh, I'm sorry," she smiled up at the barista, absently noticing he was around her age, "Even though I just checked the time, I hadn't realized it was near closing." Standing up, she swept up her jacket and slipped it on.

When Santana had tensed, just about to rise as well, the barista suddenly shook his head, smiling directly at Rachel, "That's okay. Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted another tea? On me, I mean." He briefly looked over at his partner behind the counter who was watching with a giant amused grin on his face before turning back to Rachel, "We have hot water left, and if you wanted it, I'd be happy to give it to you."

Rachel stared at him. This had never happened before. Chancing another glance at Santana, who was now glaring at him, Rachel felt her heart skip a beat at the… jealousy? …the other girl was exhibiting. _Well_. Maybe she could use this.

"Thank you, Steven," she reminded herself of his name by reading his nametag, smiling brightly and shifting her body to face him, "That's very kind of you. You sure it would be no problem?"

"Not at all," Steven seemed buoyed by her attention, "Here, let me get it for you." He accepted her tea cup. Then, as if he remembered himself, he turned to Santana, "I can't offer you coffee, but if you'd also like – "

"_No_." Santana shut him down completely, eyes now locked on Rachel.

"Uh, okay. Well," looking at Rachel as he started backing away, he asked, "Same kind?"

"Yes, please."

"Sure thing." He gave her one more smile. Reaching the counter, his partner flicked a towel at him; Rachel blushed at the knowing look he gave her before following it up with lightly socking Steven's shoulder.

When she turned back to Santana, the girl scowled at her. Arms crossed tightly across her chest, jaw tense, and eyebrows drawn close together, Rachel could almost see fire burning in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know what you mean," she answered blithely, giving Santana a cheery smile. "Why would I turn down some free tea?"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," Santana ground out.

Rachel tilted her head. Picking up one end of her scarf, she started playing with it. "I'm sorry? You're going to have to explain what you mean." Come on, Santana.

Scoffing, Santana looked away. Jerking her own jacket off of the back of her chair and putting it on, she picked up her coffee cup, taking a deep sip. When she spoke, flicking her eyes back and forth between Rachel and the window, her voice was purposefully sarcastic, disinterested, "Do you want me to leave you two together?"

A mixture of disappointment and hope burst in Rachel's stomach. "_No_," she snapped, not sure how to respond.

"You sure? You and _Steven _seem like the _best _of friends."

"I've barely talked to him, Santana. He's just being nice."

"_Nice_." Santana, about to take a step towards Rachel, the look in her eyes making Rachel swallow, stopped when Steven reappeared, tea in hand. When she turned her glare to Steven, Rachel almost joined her.

"Here you go," the oblivious barista smiled at Rachel, "Hopefully it'll keep you warm out there."

"Oh my god," Santana groaned, "Rache, let's _go_."

That was actually pretty sweet. Taking her tea back, Rachel blushed a little and inclined her head, ignoring Santana, "Thank you. I'm sure it will." Feeling the overpowering heat coming through the paper again, she added, "My hands _definitely_ will, thank you."

Santana muttered something that sounded like, "Jesus Christ."

Politely not paying any attention to her, Steven slipped his hands into the pockets of his green apron. "Good. I'm glad. So, I'm taking a shot in the dark here, but do you like Breadstix…?"

Before Rachel could think of anything to answer with, Santana suddenly grabbed her wrist, making her juggle to keep a hold on the tea with her other hand, "Okay, _no_, I can't stomach to hear anymore of this. _Stevey_." Fingers digging in, Santana relaxed enough to slide her hand down to wrap around Rachel's, tight but not overbearing. Then, taking a step forward to shoulder Rachel out of the way, she stared intently at the barista. "I'mma be straight with you. Step _off_. You're _not_ gonna get all up on this," she jerked her head in Rachel's direction, "And I can't believe that you think you even have a chance."

Shocked silent, Rachel limply kept her hand in Santana's, eyes flicking back and forth between the other girl and Steven, whose wide eyed shock was morphing into insulted defensiveness. "Hey, I don't know what your problem is, but – "

Santana sneered at him. "You want to know what my problem is? My problem is that you're thinkin' you're hot shit for spending a _dollar _to impress her, when you're nothing but a pathetic coffee slave who barely makes enough to afford the Proactiv that is obviously not strong enough to deal with _your _gross volcanoes. Jesus, they're _everywhere_. I can't see how anyone would _want _to get close to you, afraid they'll erupt with the slightest movement of that Ring of Fire they call your face.

"But more importantly," she straightened, holding her head up high, the proud look on her face belying the sharp sting of her fingernails against Rachel's hand, "She is _my _girl. And she is _not _interested. So you better _back_. The. Fuck. _Off_ before I ignore your zits and go all Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass. Yeah." Santana raised an eyebrow, followed by raising her head in accent to her words, "Lima Heights Adjacent. You know where that is? The wrong side of the railroad tracks. And you don't _want_ to _mess _with the wrong side of the railroad tracks. You gettin' me, skippy?"

"Whoah, whoah, jeez." Backing up, Steven held up his hands, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Okay? No need to get all c_razy_."

Slowly shaking her shock off, Rachel stared at Santana. "_Your_ girl?" she asked incredulously, "When did _this_ happen?"

Santana rolled her eyes. Pulling the tea out of Rachel's hand, she almost callously dropped it onto the table next to them, then turned back. Tugging Rachel to her and wrapping her arm around her waist, she smirked seductively, "How 'bout now?"

Freezing, then going, "_Ohh_," into the sudden kiss, Rachel slid her arms around Santana's neck, thrilling at the feel of her body pressing into hers and the skillful way Santana claimed her mouth. "Okay," she mumbled, flushed and heated and _so, so happy_.

Licking along Rachel's lower lip, then dipping her tongue into her mouth, Santana pulled back. "You _really _thought I didn't know this was a let's-go-as-friends-while-I-look-for-signs-you-like-me-romantically date?" she rubbed her hand up and down Rachel's side, dropping to press another kiss against her lips, which Rachel happily returned. The corners of her mouth quirked up. "You really have to learn how to be not so obvious about these things, Rache."

Staring blankly up at the taller girl, all Rachel could think of to say was, "Do you want to go to my house, now?"

Santana's eyes darkened, and she grabbed Rachel's hand again. "Oh god, yes," she started to pull Rachel towards the door. Hurrying to keep up with her, Rachel managed to spare a glance at Steven and the other barista, who were both staring at them. "Thank you, Steven!" she smiled widely. Hearing Santana's aggravated huff and tightening of her grip around her hand as they pushed outside, Rachel pulled her to a stop right outside the door, curled her hand behind her neck, and kissed her as passionately as she could.

When Santana finally let her go, a thought hit her. "I don't think you know this," she breathed raggedly, blushing as she met Santana's eyes, "But I find your 'Lima Heights Adjacent' rant as equally attractive as I find it needlessly violent."

Santana's answering smirk was positively predatory.


	30. Chapter 30

"Oh my god…" Santana stared into the mirror. Brushing back her hair, then pulling it back in front of her shoulders, then pushing it back again, she only stopped messing with it when Brittany grabbed her hand. Looking into the affectionate blue eyes of her best friend, Santana blushed. "I just want to look perfect," she whispered, turning back to the mirror.

"S…" Smiling widely, Brittany stepped up and wrapped her arms around Santana's waist, snuggling into her back with her chin on her shoulder, "You look perfect. And you know she'll love you no matter what you look like."

"That's reassuring," Santana shook her head slightly, though she relaxed back into Brittany.

Brittany hummed, tightening her hug.

Santana drew in a deep, slow breath. "You know?" she asked quietly, meeting Brittany's eyes in the mirror, "I'm not nervous at all."

"That's great!" Brittany pressed an excited kiss to her cheek and pulled back. "So you agree you have nothing to worry about with your hair?" she smiled cheekily.

Rolling her eyes, Santana smiled back.

* * *

"Oh my Barbra…" Rachel stared into the mirror. Reaching a hand up to touch her cheek then brush back through her hair, she turned to look at Kurt when he caught her hand and pulled it down. "I guess I'm a little nervous…" she admitted.

"Only a little?" Kurt teased, raising one eyebrow. Squeezing her hand, he smiled broadly at her, eyes almost sparkling, "Rachel, my dear, dear diva, you look _amazing_, and everything – _everything_! – is going to go off without a hitch." He then slid his arm around her waist, turning her back towards the mirror. "God knows," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Santana will raise hell if it doesn't."

Rachel giggled, beaming up at her best friend through the mirror. "You're absolutely right," a faint, affectionate blush crossed her face, and she nodded, "Santana would."

Kurt kissed her cheek. "And the best part?" he smiled.

"Yes?"

"She's all yours."

Rachel's smile got bigger, and then she elbowed him. "You're a jerk, Kurt, distracting me with Santana. …Even if it worked."


	31. Chapter 31

Rachel was done. _Done_. She couldn't handle the tears and pain and heartbreak anymore. She was a proud woman, and it was time for her to _reclaim _that.

When Santana climbed through her window, face red from the cold and lips parted in a wide, expecting smirk, Rachel could barely look at her. She was too beautiful, and Rachel knew her too well to expect to ignore her.

The second Santana sat next to her on the bed, she wrapped her arms around Rachel's sides, pushing the both of them backwards. Shoving her pelvis against Rachel's, dropping herself between her legs, she held Rachel's arms above her head. Sucking in her breath, Rachel couldn't stop the tears that instantly welled up in her eyes, and she closed her eyes. Santana's mouth was hot and wet on her neck.

The more Santana did, the harder Rachel started to cry. Finally realizing she wasn't shaking with arousal, Santana pulled back. "Berry?" she frowned, fingers digging into Rachel's wrists.

Rachel couldn't answer her. Shaking her head, when she tried to take her arms back, Santana let go. Santana then allowed her to roll out from under her, stopping on her side in a fetal position. Rachel could feel the heat of her body burning her back.

"Berry." Santana's voice was frustrated and confused and angry and uncertain.

Before she could stop herself, Rachel rolled back over. Staring at Santana through already swollen eyelids and a curtain of dark hair, her heart lurched. She closed her eyes, dropping her head to the covers.

Santana's breath blew over her face, cool against her tears, and a hot hand wrapped around her cheek. "Why are you looking like that?" Santana asked, shifting her body even closer to Rachel's.

Rachel could feel her expression crumbling even more, and, in a fit of weakness, threw her arms around Santana's shoulders. Burying her head into her neck, smelling everything that was _Santana_, that was _her _Santana, she held on as tightly as she could to try and stop reality from intruding.

Even if this Santana, _her _Santana, wasn't good for her, that didn't stop her from wanting to hold onto her for a little while longer. She could be weak for a little while longer. She could.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: **This one was originally meant to be a Piece, but it grew. Based off this prompt from beepboopbop: Someone insults Santana in Glee club and Rachel, pissed off, comes to her defense. Thank you!

* * *

"Oh come _on_. It's not like we all don't know you're a huge _slut_, Santana!" Finn threw out angrily, "Tell me, _who_ in this room _haven't _you slept with?"

The quiet tuning session of the jazz band stopped abruptly, the rest of the gleeks snapping their heads over to stare at the rapidly turning red cheerleader.

Mr. Schuester's, "Finn!" was cut off and eclipsed by Rachel's livid, "_Finn Hudson_!"

Finn jerked back, raising his hands as if warding off a coming storm. "What? She was _insulting _me!"

"Ohh, no." Shaking her head, the small brunette jumped from her chair and stomped over to him. Her finger jutted into his face, "That does _not _give you an excuse! Are you a little _boy_, Finn?"

"What? But?" His eyes flicking back and forth from his ex-girlfriend and Mr. Schuester and the rest of glee and Santana, Finn shifted in his chair, "It's _true_!" Then, as if he was a dying man grasping at straws, he blurted, "You and Kurt are practically the only ones she hasn't spread her legs for!"

"Hey!" "_Fuck_ _you_." "That's disgusting." "Oh Jesus." "_I _haven't slept with her." "I don't _want _to sleep with her." "_I'd_ sleep with her. What? I would." Out of the various spluttered responses, Rachel's was the one that got everyone to shut up. Her eyebrows knitted together, her chin raised, and she looked Finn straight in the eye, "I'm afraid you're wrong."

Finn went white. "_Kurt _slept with Santana?" he strangled out.

"Oh dear lord," Kurt muttered.

Santana put a hand to her face. "Ohh my god… Hobbit, shut up."

"No, Santana." Dismissing her, Rachel crossed her arms. She _dared _Finn to interrupt her. "Finn, just because you slept with Santana last year doesn't mean you get to make unfounded generalizations about her character. The amount of people she's slept with is _not your business_."

"Then how is it _yours_?"

"…Shouldn't Mr. Schuester be stepping in now?" Tina asked Mercedes, who cut her off, shaking her head, "Shh! This is getting good."

Rachel breathed in deeply. She purposefully turned her eyes to Santana and tilted her head.

Quinn's mouth dropped open, "Oh. My. God."

"_Wait_." Kurt straightened, "Sweet Barbra. Am I… Am I reading this right?"

A large, leering smirk appeared on Puck's face. "Well holy damn," he looked back and forth between Rachel and Santana, "That's hot."

Santana threw up her hands. "As hot as it is having you stand up for me against the Frankenteen," she stood up, making her way to behind Rachel; sighing, and after a short pause, she stepped forward and slid her arms around Rachel's waist, pressing her lips against the smaller girl's ear, "You don't need to fight my battles for me."

Rachel accepted the embrace, but after glancing back for just a second and smiling shyly at Santana, she kept her eyes on a very pale, dumbfounded Finn. "Answer your question?" she raised her eyebrow.

Finn nodded, dropping his chin to his chest. He looked like he might start crying.

And that was when Mr. Schuester decided to do his job. "Alright!" he clapped his hands, "Rachel, Santana. You can retake your seats. And Finn? Come see me after class."

"Yeah, no." Lifting her head, Santana looked directly at Mr. Schuester, "You're going to have to make do without Rachel n' me today."

"Santana!" Rachel hissed, turning in her arms to stare at her.

Santana ignored her. "Yup. So, have fun without us. B, Q, take care of our crap? Thanks." Sliding her arms away and grabbing Rachel's hand, Santana easily pulled her out of the room: "Rache, shut up. Don't you _want _my tongue all over you?"

"But, I – _glee_, Santana!"

"_Don't_ you? Because I can always go find someone _else _who'd appreciate the fine art of Lopez cunning linguilism."

"Linguilism is not a _word_, Santana. But regardless. Don't you _dare_, Santana Lopez! Your tongue is only to be available to _me_."

And the door swung shut behind them.

"…What just happened?" "I have _no _idea." "Was that real?" "Though it disturbs me to say this, they look oddly cute together… I can't believe I just said that." "Rachel's gay?" "Hey, Finn, how's it feel that you and your ex-girlfriend _both_ lost it to Santana? Manhood threatened yet?" "_Shut up_! This is a plot! A plot! It _has_ to be!" "Nah, you just don't want to admit you turned Rachel _gay_." "_Seriously_?" "About _time_ they admitted it…"

Everyone stopped and stared at Mike. He leaned back in his chair, slinking from all the attention. Before he could get jumped, he hurried out, "I walked in on them two months ago. Hey, if _you _had Santana threatening you, you wouldn't tell, either."

Agreeing with his statement, a loaded silence settled over the room. Finally, Kurt shifted, breaking the silence, "So what should their portmanteau be?"

"Pezchel!" "No, Sanchel." "I like Loberry…" "Pezberry?" "Satanberry!" "Ooh, Satanberry!" "That sounds… Dramatic." "_No_, it sounds _satanic_." "Duh, that's the point. Santana's anger and Rachel's bossiness." "Yeah, but… You know they won't like that." "Too bad! Okay, _mostly_ everyone happy with Satanberry? Good. Satanberry it is."

All Mr. Schuester could do was shake his head.

* * *

**A/N2: **I totally love the name Satanberry.


	33. Chapter 33

"But she _needs _a collar, Santana!" Rachel frowned, pulling their cat, Hepburn, into her arms. "People need to know she belongs to us."

"Yeah, because you'll even let her outside," Santana rolled her eyes, reaching forward to scratch under the orange haired Persian's chin.

Narrowing her eyes, Rachel buried her cheek into Hepburn's neck and turned so her back was to Santana. "You know I only limit her time outside because of the inherent risk of compromising her health. However, if we were to invest in another collar, I would be a little more willing to chance it." Letting out a small mew, Hepburn rubbed her head against Rachel's, starting up a purr. It was like she was supportive of what the small woman was saying.

Santana sighed. "You know she's only going to slip it, _again_."

Rachel's head bowed. "Be that as it may…"

"You really think this is that important?" Santana asked, walking up to pull Rachel back into her front, joining her in looking out the window, "That people know she's ours?"

"Don't _you_?" Lolling her head back, Rachel gave Santana a softly sad betrayed look. She gently squeezed Hepburn harder. "If people know she's our cat, then they won't try to take her from us. Or… Or, god forbid something happens to her, they'll know who to contact. How would we _know_ otherwise? How would we have a say in what happens to her?"

Santana rested her head onto Rachel's shoulder. "So you're saying…" she mused, moving one of her hands back to slide into her pocket, "It's like marriage."

"I… Suppose so," Rachel tilted her head away from Santana as she thought. In the quiet, Hepburn continued to purr.

"Because…" Santana hmmed, slowly circling Rachel to stand in front of her, "If you think about it, that's what marriage is."

Rachel looked up at her, smiling easily. "For the most part, yes." She nodded her head in time with her words, then rubbed between Hepburn's ears, grinning, "Though I don't think _we _have to go so drastic as to apply for a wedding license for you, huh, Hepburn? Or do you want to get married? There _is _that rather handsome tuxedo cat a couple of apartments ov_er_ – " She gasped, stopping in midsentence when Santana held up a black velvet ring box, her reactionary constriction of her arms making Hepburn yowl and jump down. Now free, Rachel's hands flew to her mouth.

Looking extremely smug and nervously excited, Santana dropped to one knee. "Thanks, Hepburn, but I'll take it from here," she smiled at the orange cat, who had strutted over to window seat and curled up, watching her two humans curiously. Hepburn's ear twitched.

Licking her lips, Santana looked back up at Rachel and gave her _that _smile. "Rachel," she husked, "I want that. With you. Everything you said."

"E-everything…?" Rachel whispered, tears starting to crowd her eyes as she stared down at Santana. "_Santana_."

"Yes. Everything." Taking a deep breath, Santana's dark eyes caught and held Rachel's, "I want the knowledge that, even if you'll insist it's anti-feminist or some crap like that, everyone knows you're taken. That I'm the only one able to be with you. And that I'll be the only one able to take care of you. Emotionally. Physically. Legally. That you'll trust me to keep your best interests and keep you safe. To protect you. And I want you to have those rights, too." Pausing for a second, Santana's voice dropped and she continued, putting more absolute certainty behind her words, "I love you, Rachel. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and… And I want to do this right. So, Rachel Barbra Berry."

Rachel started to shake, nodding her head up and down, "Yes. Yes."

"Will you ma– "

"_Yes_!" Dropping to her knees, Rachel surged forward to throw herself into Santana's arms, almost causing the woman to drop the engagement ring. She started peppering Santana's face with quick, overjoyed and tearing kisses, "Yes, I'll marry you!"

Santana's relieved laugh echoed through the apartment. Pulling Rachel in close to her, she managed to eventually catch Rachel's mouth with her own. Pouring all the love she could into the kiss, she blindly reached to find Rachel's left hand. "Here, your finger," she gasped, barely able to stop kissing her fiancée to actually slide the ring into place.

"Oh my – it's _beautiful_," Rachel whispered, staring at it before lunging to kiss Santana again.

"Not as beautiful as you," Santana responded, then winced at how cheesy that sounded. To cover that up, she circled Rachel's waist and smiled at her while asking slyly, "So, how do you know that's what I was going to ask?" She smirked merrily, "I could have been asking to marinate a steak with you, for all you know."

Rachel snorted, but she couldn't even pretend to be annoyed. "Well, I'm glad you didn't," she smiled, drawing Santana's head down to kiss her thoroughly, "Because even though I love you, I won't do that."

Santana smiled. "Good," she breathed, leaning back to hoist herself up to her feet, leaning forward immediately to help pull Rachel up, "Don't let even me change your crazy ways." And, as soon as Rachel was settled on her feet, Santana grinned broadly and scooped her up into her arms. "Sex now?"

Flicking Santana's arm but snuggling into her, Rachel began to kiss her way up Santana's neck. "_Engaged_ sex now."

Santana's knees became weak, and she quickly swung the two of them around to start for their bedroom, hugging Rachel as close to her as she could. "_Engaged_ sex. Oh, Hepburn? Dinner's going to be late. Not sorry!"

Flicking her tail, Hepburn lowered her head to her paws, sighed, and prepared to block out the inevitable noises that would be quickly filling up the apartment. At least, she smiled to herself, her humans would be in such a good mood later that they'd let her outside without demanding she wear a silly, itchy, idiotic looking collar. After all, she purred and curled up even tighter as the noises started, the handsome tuxedo cat a couple of apartments over liked her better without it.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: **This is completely and totally pointless but for the fact it amused me to a certain degree writing it. XD

* * *

"So when do you think she's gonna get tired of us?" Santana asked from where she was lounging on Rachel's bed, watching her girlfriend touching up her hair in the mirror.

"Huh?" Without pausing the stroking of her hairbrush, Rachel tilted her head back a little to momentarily meet Santana's eyes.

Santana shrugged, picking up a discarded pillow to hug it close to her chest. "Peppermint Patty. Peter Parker. The PP. When is she going to get tired of us?"

"Ohh." Looking down, Rachel sighed and placed the hairbrush back onto the bureau, swiveling her chair over until she could get up to slide onto her bed as well. "Not that I'm ignoring your question, but why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering." Santana shrugged again.

"Are you sure?" Pausing on her knees near Santana's legs, Rachel sat back on her ankles and chewed on her lower lip. Her fingers idly plucked at the sheets. "She hasn't… Given you any _reason _to wonder, has she?"

Putting the pillow down, Santana shook her head, sliding forward to settle on her own knees in front of Rachel. She picked Rachel's hands up. "No." Her lips curled up, and she started stroking the back of Rachel's hands with her thumbs, "But it _is _coming close to the one year anniversary of when she published her first story of us."

Rachel smiled shyly, leaning forward to brush her lips against Santana's. "And you looked so dashing in your Panther costume," she murmured.

"Hell yeah!" Smirking, Santana returned Rachel's kiss, then slid around to her side, pulling the small girl into her arms. She nuzzled Rachel's ear, "And you were _adorable_ all confused and threatening to spray me with pepper spray." Opening her mouth, she gently tugged on Rachel's earlobe with her teeth. "Which, thank you for not doing so."

Shivering, Rachel smiled, finding Santana's hand to lace with hers, which she then rested on her thigh. "Even if I apparently have not figured out that my hero is you, I don't think I could ever do that." She tilted her head to give Santana better access. "Better than the next story," she hummed.

Santana nodded, nudging Rachel forward and over so she could pull her back into her chest as she leaned against the headboard. "Still can't believe you made me sing in front of glee club," she grumbled affectionately.

"Hey, you deserved to." Jutting her chin out, Rachel ruined the affect by grinning and sinking back into her girlfriend, mmming as Santana's arms snaked around her waist, "Even if I can't quite remember what, exactly, I was mad at you for."

"Yeah… Was that ever specified?" Santana raised her eyebrow.

Rachel frowned. "No… I don't think so. I just remember needing you to do some kind of big, sweeping, romantic serenade." Tilting her head back, she met Santana's eyes and smiled softly at her, "Which you did. Thank you."

"Damn right. I killed it." Smirking, Santana pressed a kiss into Rachel's temple. Then, "Thank you for not breaking up with me," she whispered, settling her chin heavily on Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel laced their hands together. "Baby…"

Letting out a sighing mmm, Santana squeezed Rachel's waist, gave her another kiss to her temple, and urged her to turn sideways in her arms. "I'm just happy PP doesn't break us up that often," she murmured, sighing as she met Rachel's eyes, "I… Even if I'm the one who does it, I miss you."

A shadow crossed Rachel's face, and she leaned her head against Santana's shoulder and collarbone, kissing her neck. "I feel the same way. Still, at least we're sincere when we do it." Her lips quirked up sardonically, and she sung softly, "_Beauty in the breakdown…_" She slid her hand up Santana's arm. "I love you."

Santana, smiling gratefully, leaned back to appraise Rachel. Her eyes were affectionate. "I love you too."

Rachel lowered her eyes, smiling as she started playing with Santana's hand. "Those were the only stories she posted in December of 2010, right?"

"Right. The first ones she posted on the internet."

"Hmm…" Resting against Santana again, Rachel shook her head, "Didn't stop her before she went _crazy_. These down times are nice to have."

Santana held her comfortably. "For sure." She hmmed. "How long do you think it'll be before we get called again?"

Rachel arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

Smirking, Santana slid a hand up Rachel's side, dragging her shirt up with her, "No reason."

A smile bloomed on Rachel's face, and her hand on Santana's arm started stroking her skin. "And you say you don't want me just for my body," she teased, lifting her chin to meet Santana's eyes.

Santana's chuckle was gladly caught by Rachel's lips. "If…" the small girl breathed, shifting to straddle Santana's legs, "If _she _was writing us now, you think she'd _actually _write the sex scene?"

"Well…" Santana confidently slipped her hands under Rachel's shirt, "No."


	35. Chapter 35

Swooping in to kiss Rachel, Santana pulled back and licked her lips. "Cherry?" she cocked her head, "You been kissing Mike?"

Rachel smirked up at her. "Well, it's better than last week's puckleberry, hmm?"

Frowning, Santana folded her arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Damn right. Puck needs'ta learn you're off-limits. So why did Mike kiss you? Do I need to kick his ass?"

"He said he wanted to know if I tasted like Pez." Grinning, Rachel snuggled in.

Santana rolled her eyes. "And did you?"

Pulling her down, Rachel kissed her securely. "What do you think?"

"Mmm… I think we should do some more research…"

* * *

Later, Rachel shook her head, smiling despite herself into Santana's neck. "You know, you guys have _way _too much fun with my surname."

Santana grinned and surged up to roll Rachel onto her back. "I'm just waiting until they think of Berry Pie. I mean, you and B? _Smokin' _hot."

"It's a good thing you're not the jealous type, hmm?" Rachel arched an eyebrow as she slid her arms around Santana's neck.

"Oh yeah… Not jealous at _all_…" Nuzzling Rachel's nose with her own, Santana pulled back. "Tell Mike to keep his mitts to himself afores I have to break every dancin' bone in his body, kay?"

A wide, amused smile split Rachel's face. "Okay. Besides, Pez is the only flavor I want on me." She lowered her voice. "Even if Berry Pie sounds _intriguing_…"

Santana kissed her. "Shut up."

"Make me."

"_Gladly_."


	36. Chapter 36

Rachel finds Santana most attractive when she's curled up on the couch in a loose tee and jeans with no socks on, her hair pulled up into a messy bun and her black wire rim glasses low on her nose as she reads the latest Reader's Digest. Invariably, Santana's girlfriend can last only a couple of minutes before she sets down the New York Times' crossword and gets up to crawl in between Santana's legs, settling with her head against Santana's chest. Shifting so she can pull the Reader's Digest up to keep it within sight, Santana only starts to react when Rachel gets too impatient to wait and starts stroking up and down Santana's side, above her jeans. Even then, she only sighs and turns the page.

Hiding a smile, Rachel then moves her fingers up to run along Santana's bicep. "Santana," she whispers, purposefully blowing the Reader's Digest with her breath.

"Hmm?" Santana flips another page.

"Santana."

"Mmhm."

"Santan – "

Santana sighs, her own breath fluttering the pages of her magazine. Closing it around one finger, she lowers it to raise her eyebrows at Rachel. "Yes, Rachel?"

Rachel grins, then reaches up to pull the magazine fully away from her. "I want to tell you a secret."

"Is this a secret I already know?"

Shaking her head, Rachel smiles when Santana's newly freed hands wrap around her back, and she sits up enough to start brushing her lips along Santana's jaw. "You're beautiful," she always whispers, and means it.

Watching her through her eyelashes, red faintly stains her cheeks and Santana leans down to capture Rachel's lips while whispering back, "You're beautiful," and always means it, too.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: **Random crap floating in my odds n' ends file. I'm truly scraping the bottom of the barrel now, yup yup. But what else am I to do when my brain is as fried as it is?

* * *

Breaking News!

Shocking information has come to us courtesy of some eagle-eyed members of the AV club. It turns out we have a celebrity among us – a video game celebrity with winnings of thousands of dollars no less. But the identity of this celebrity? This editor almost blew his pants when he heard.

It appears, dear readers, that one Rachel Berry, lowest of the low (though still incredibly boner-inducing), is a nationally ranked champion of the video game world. A "lady gamer", if you will, allegedly specializing in the Marvel vs. Capcom and Street Fighter franchises. And next week, she's apparently going head to head with the current U.S. champion! Could anyone have predicted this?

When asked about this shocking turn of events, Head Cheerleader Santana Lopez had this to say, "Why the hell should I care if the squalling Ewok infant spends time being incredibly pathetic? She may be in glee club with me, but she's still a loser. We're _not _friends. We don't even talk. And I certainly don't stare at her lips when she's blathering on. Go away!"

There you have it, dear readers! Rachel Berry's claim to fame – something to support? Or something to ridicule? Stay tuned here, and I'll tell you as more breaking news unfolds!


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: **First sentence provided by DarkndAngel9. Thanks!

* * *

All of a sudden, Jewfro ran into the choir room screaming.

"She's after me!" he shrieked, almost bowling over a line of folding chairs as he tripped over them in his haste to get behind Puck and Lauren and Mike standing near the other side of the room. Stumbling into Puck, he grabbed his shirt. "Help me! I'm too young to die!"

"Dude! _Not _cool. Puck is a loser-free zone!" Pushing Jewfro off of him and shoving him to the floor for good measure, Puck glared down at him. "Now, what the hell?"

White and trembling, Jewfro sniffled as he immediately slithered around to hide behind Puck's legs. "She's _after _me," he repeated, "I'm too young to diiiiiiieeeeee!"

"_Jewfro_!" Santana's voice echoed through the choir room, the girl stalking in. Radiating absolute fury, she zeroed in on the cowering boy. She started towards him.

"Yeah... I'm gettin' out of here." Kicking Jewfro off of him, Puck stepped back. He shook his head, then turned to Santana. "All yours."

Santana didn't acknowledge him. As she got closer to a frantically sobbing and whimpering Jewfro, she cracked her knuckles, one by one. "You know..." she purred dangerously, looking absolutely predatory, "I _warned _you."

"I-I know! I know! I'm so sorry! I won't do it again! I promise! Please don't kill me! _Please_!"

Bending over the pathetic creature, Santana shook her head. "I _told _you."

Jewfro threw up his hands, keeping them in front of his face as he tried to shuffle backwards. "I'm sorry!"

"And I. Don't. Care." Smiling evilly, Santana wrapped her hand into the collar of his shirt, hauling him up and slamming his back into the wall, curling her other hand into a fist. "You didn't _listen_,"

_SLAM_!

"When I _told_ you,"

_SLAM_!

"To _stay_,"

_SLAM_!

"_The_,"

_SLAM_!

"_Fuck_,"

_SLAM_!

"_Away_,"

_SLAM_!_ SLAM_!

"_From _**_Rachel!_**"

_SLAM_! _SLAM_! **_CRUNCH!_**

Puck winced, shaking his head. "_Damn_. I _almost _feel sorry for the poor bastard. You _never _mess with Santana's girl. _Never_."


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: **'People say time always heals everything, but...' was provided by quietonthesidelines. Thanks!

* * *

People say time always heals everything, but Rachel knew that wasn't true. The first and last times Finn had broken her heart had left permanent scars, and though she knew hardship built character, she could remember each and every time someone had questioned her abilities. It was a sad byproduct of a life in entertainment, and though she knew it was inevitable, old and new pain still managed to hurt her when she allowed herself to slow down.

"Hey, you still bummed over your audition?" a familiar male voice asked before long arms suddenly wrapped around her waist, pulling her up and back into a firm body.

"_Noah_!" she gasped, laughing at the surprise, her hands flying up to support her weight on his forearms.

Chuckling, Puck swung her around before dropping her back in front of the refrigerator. "What's for dinner?" he asked, sliding past her to grab a bottle of beer.

Smoothing her hair, Rachel rolled her eyes. "And good evening to you, too, Noah," she smiled, poking him as he passed her. Making a face back at him, she turned back to the refrigerator and finished taking out the carton of soymilk she'd opened the refrigerator in the first place for. "So you're actually going to be home tonight?" she asked curiously.

"Yup." Unscrewing the cap, Puck leaned against the kitchen counter, pulling down a glass and handing it to her before taking a deep swallow, "In fact, a friend's coming over."

Rachel paused. "The new girl you're doing?" she asked disinterestedly.

Puck laughed. "Don't sound so _excited_. I might actually think you're jealous."

"You wish." Grinning at her friend, Rachel finished pouring herself a glass of soymilk, taking a sip after putting it away and leaning against the kitchen counter opposite him, "Don't worry. That ship sailed a _long _time ago."

Wiggling his eyebrows, Puck raised his bottle in salute, "I'd feel insulted if I didn't know it was only because you're now a pussy-only zone." He smirked, quickly continuing on before she could interrupt, "In fact, you'll thank me for tonight."

"Oh no." Eyes widening, Rachel set her glass down. "You didn't set me up on a blind date, did you?"

Puck chuckled again. Ruffling Rachel's hair teasingly as he walked past her, he smiled into his beer, "I'll tell Santana that you want to date her when she gets here. I'm sure _she'll_ make you feel better about the stupid casting director. Be sure to thank me later."

Rachel stared at Puck's retreating back. "N-_Noah_! You get _back _here! _Santana_?"

His echoing laughter was her only reply.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **'The day Rachel Berry rode up on a motorcycle...' was provided by an anon. Thanks!

* * *

The day Rachel Berry rode up on a motorcycle was the day Santana Lopez, Brittany S. Pierce, and Quinn Fabray all realized they were in love with her. Standing near the front doors, gossiping about the total travesty that were the pathetic new batch of Cheerios, all three girls stopped talking when a slim figure on a sexy motorcycle pulled up with a smooth, tapering purr.

"Who's that…?" Brittany whispered, her pinky tightening around Santana's.

"Oh my god," Santana's eyes hungrily drank in the small body in riding leathers, "Whoever that girl is _needs _to be in my bed. Like, _now_."

Quinn nodded absently. Licking her lips, her breath caught when the girl, after sliding her gloves off and stuffing them into the pockets of her jacket, slowly unbuckled her helmet and pulled it off.

Dark, wild brown hair tumbled down, and the Unholy Trinity stared in a mixture of shocking comprehension and arousal at the effortless sexiness of the one girl all three had decided at one point they had to seduce.

"…Well. Girls," Quinn breathed in deeply, raising her chin, "You know what we need to do."

Santana nodded, releasing Brittany's hand to cross her arms, expression intent, "She won't have _any_ chance to refuse."

"Why would she want to?" Biting down on her index finger while sliding her now free hand up and down the fabric of her skirt, Brittany tilted her head, adding, "You think she'd go for sex on her bike?"


	41. Chapter 41

It was senior year, and Mr. Schuester, with the help of a generous grant from April Rhodes after her Broadway play took off and became a certifiable hit, arranged for the New Directions to go to Las Vegas over Spring Break for a music and arts symposium slash vocal camp. Five days were going to be spent doing glee club things, the last two going to be open to the kids to whatever they wanted to do – as long as they were responsible and checked in with him every other hour. After the year before's disastrous Cleveland Aquarium incident, he wasn't going to take any chances.

The roommate situation was atypically left up to the students to decide. No coed room assignments, of course, but two people to a room, and no sleepovers. Though the boys had no trouble deciding right away (Puck and Finn, Mike and Artie, and Kurt and Sam, who ever since Kurt had helped him in junior year [as well as he and Mercedes were still going strong] had become pretty good friends). However, because there was an odd number of girls, their partnering up hadn't gone as smoothly.

Though Rachel had originally wanted to share a room with Mercedes, Tina hadn't wanted to share a room with one of the ex-Unholy Trinity (and Lauren had demanded to have the single room), so Rachel had graciously let her have Mercedes. Then Quinn, looking between Rachel and Brittany and Santana, grabbed Brittany's arm, dragging the other blonde over to her. Santana would have objected, except she and Brittany had never quite figured where they stood with each other, and staying alone in the same room for a week would have just made things just that bit more awkward. So, when she realized that Rachel was the last person and who she would have to be stuck with, she just groaned and made a quip about taping Rachel's mouth and nose shut if she not only insisted on talking to Santana, but snored with her huge beak as well. Pinching her lips together and crossing her arms, Rachel only shook her head and told her that spending a week with her wasn't her idea of a good time either, but it was Las Vegas, so she wouldn't quibble.

* * *

Dropping her bag onto the bed closest to the bathroom, Santana immediately flopped down next to it. "Okay, I understand that the seats would be random, but why the _hell _did I have to sit in between Whales and Trouty Mouth? I'm not into seafood smorgasbord!"

Gently setting her own bag down onto the other bed, Rachel took a seat on the edge instead of flopping down. "Well, I'm sure it was better than Kurt, stuck between Puck and Finn."

Santana grinned. Rolling over, onto her stomach, she folded her arms under her chin, "And who'd you get?"

Rachel's gaze lowered enough that Santana could only see her eyelashes. "I had the window seat next to… Tina and Mike."

"_Ohh_." Santana winced, "Damn. I don't like you, Berry, but I hafta agree that's harsh." Rolling onto her back again, she lifted her hands towards the ceiling, turning them to study her nails, "You'd think they'd have gotten sick and tired of each other's asian sauce already."

Sighing, Rachel rubbed one of her arms, then shook her head. A bittersweet smile came to her face. "No, I think it's reassuring. That some people who are probably meant to be together find each other so early in life."

Santana paused, her eyes flicking towards the top of her head in a seeming attempt at looking at Rachel through it. She frowned. When she spoke, her voice was brusque and uninterested, "I don't believe people are 'meant to be', or any of that soulmate _crap_." Bringing her hands down to her sides, she slid them up to rest, laced together, on her stomach, "It's something someone made up a long time ago so people, stupid enough to believe in anything, wouldn't feel bad when they were pathetically alone and loveless."

The silence left after her words was broken by a, "That's sad."

"What?" Santana snorted, "Just because I don't believe in soulmates doesn't mean you can judge me for it."

"No, I'm not judging you," Rachel's voice was soft but confident, and Santana heard her moving around before unzipping what must have been her suitcase, "I just think it's sad that current romantic troubles have made you bitter."

Santana blinked. "_Excuse_ me?" she pushed herself up, "What shit are you smoking that makes you think you can psychoanalyze me?"

Startled, Rachel stared at her with big eyes before dropping them to look into her suitcase, "I'm sorry. I don't think I meant that as it came out."

Santana continued glaring at her.

Rachel shrugged, pulling out some insanely folded clothing, some even still in their dry cleaning bags, "What I _did_ mean was that, being somewhat aware of your situation with Brittany, I think you're allowing your dissatisfaction color your outlook. You obviously thought Brittany was your 'one and only', and there's no saying she _isn't_, but – "

"_Shut the fuck up_." Santana was off the bed before she knew it, bent over Rachel with her hands on either side of her, her arms brushing past her hips as she snarled into the other girl's face.

Rachel dropped her mouth open even as she flinched back, but Santana violently jerked her head in a sharp, negative move, cutting her off. "Is that any of your business? Huh? Tell me. Is that _any_ of your business?

"I'll tell you. _No_. No, that _isn't_ any of your business." Moving back, she closed her eyes into slits. "You don't see _me _all up in _your _business, so why in the hell should you be all up in _my _business?"

When the angry words stopped, Santana's breathing loud in the silence, Rachel met her gaze directly. "Santana," she said softly, curling one of her hands around the other in her lap, "I apologize for how my words came out. Again. You're right. It's none of my business. I just think that – "

"Ohh my _god_," Santana yelled, shoving herself backwards to snatch up her jacket. "_You_," she pointed at Rachel, "Are _so_ lucky I had to sign a contract that I wouldn't kill you. Now." She shrugged her jacket on and yanked the door open, "I'mma be back right before bed check, which is only when I _have _to be."

"But that's over five _hours_ from now," Rachel stood up.

Santana glared at her. "_Good_. Gives me a chance to get the overwhelming disgust of you out of my system before I have to brace myself for more." She slammed the door behind her.

Staring at the door, Rachel released the breath she'd been holding, and sank back onto the bed. "Well…" she looked around the empty room, clasping her hands in her lap, "That went better than it _could _have, at least."


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: **The first paragraph was provided by an anon. Thanks!

* * *

Santana and Brittany were patrolling the halls on their first day back. Brittany turned around and gasped a little, "Is that Rachel with The Skanks?"

"Hah! As if." Scoffing, Santana nonetheless turned to see what her best friend was still staring at, "Berry's too much of a coward to even be in the same _hallway _with one of The Skanks – – holy fucking god what is she doing?"

Flanked on either side by The Skanks who were not The Mack, Rachel Berry strutted down the hall as if she knew the effect she was having but honestly didn't give a fuck. Hair cut into a sharp bob, bangs bold across her forehead, and dyed a deep, deep midnight blue-almost-black, the usually uptight good girl's outfit only continued the mindfuckery. Wearing a tight black tunic top long enough to be worn as a dress with the sleeves scrunched up to right below her elbows, a black belt cinched tight around her waist, dark purple fishnet stockings encasing her legs down to black heeled army boots. Numerous bracelets encircled her wrist, clunky glittery rings sparkling on several fingers. Her makeup was wild and strong, lips a dark, dark red; as her eyes met Santana's, those lips quirked up in an impish smirk, and Rachel blew her a kiss.

Their gaze not breaking until she and Sheila and Bonnie swept past, the contrast of Rachel's height and the other girls' only enhanced the sheer impressiveness of the scene.

"S?" Brittany whispered, laying her hand supportively on Santana's waist, "I think you should breathe."

And air rushed out of Santana's lungs. "What the – " she coughed, her hand scrabbling at Brittany's arm to catch her balance, "What the _fuck_? What happened to _my Rachel_?"

Brittany furrowed her brow. "_Your_ Rachel?" she looked down the hall, then back at Santana, "Rachel belonged to you?"

"_What_?" Snapping her attention away from where Rachel was walking up to The Mack's locker, Santana's expression grew panicked, "Why the hell would you say that? Why would the hobbit belong to me?" Her lips firmed, her arms crossed, and she worked her jaw, eyes shuttering, "Hell, if she _did _belong to me, I'd tie her up and – _god no_! Not _her_!"

Brittany swung her gaze back down the hall. Her eyebrows rose, and surprise made her mouth open. She leaned down to stage-whisper in Santana's ear, "Rachel's capital-L lesbian?"

Because, right there, plainly and unashamedly in view of everyone, Rachel had approached The Mack and pushed up on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to her mouth. The Mack had confidently wrapped her arms around Rachel's thin waist, her hands splayed proprietarily on her lower back. Even from far away, it was obvious it was the embrace of a practiced couple, the happy laugh Rachel let out when they separated only solidifying the impression.

A low noise left Santana's mouth, deep pain shining in her eyes before a well practiced mask of angered stone slid over her face. "Whatever," she pushed out, grabbing Brittany's hand. Not bothering to slide her fingers down to hook just their pinkies together, or too busy pretending nothing was wrong to care how it looked, Brittany could clearly feel the angry and hurt tremors running underneath her skin as Santana abruptly restarted their patrol of the hall. "S?"

"Yes, B?" Santana's response was too casual.

"More happened between you and Rachel this summer than you told me, didn't it?"

Santana's jaw clenched, and her eyes flicked to Brittany before being forced back towards the door situated behind Rachel and The Mack and The Skanks. As they passed the group, Rachel wrapped up securely in The Mack's arms, Santana pulled Brittany closer and didn't answer.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: **The first line was provided by captain-lopez. Thanks!

* * *

Q, I swear to god if you keep leering at her like that I will ends you.

_Sorry to tell you this, but you can't tell me what to do. I'm not Jewfro._

Yeah, but you're also not pregnant anymore. I don't have to feel guilty about sucker punching you. You get me?

_No wonder Rachel hasn't given you an answer yet. Maybe she's afraid if she tells you no, you'll BEAT HER DOWN._

YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY WE ARE IN CLASS BECAUSE ELSEWISE I WOULD SLAP THAT FUCKING SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE. BACK OFF.

_Oh my god, you're just a violent bitch, aren't you?_

At least I'm not a frigid pressed lemon.

_You're pathetic. _

At least I'VE gotten a taste of Rachel. Have you? NO, you haven't. I'VE gotten her tongue. Her lips. Her endless legs locked around my waist as she makes that breathless, needy moan DIRECTLY into my mo

**_YOU ARE A DISGUSTING PIG_**

AND YOU FUCKING RIPPED MY PAPER AWAY, FABRAY! I WASN'T DONE TAUNTING YOU WITH THE FACT THAT **I'VE HAD SEX WITH RACHEL AND YOU HAVEN'T**.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N: **First line was provided by ellowyntinuviel. Thanks! Yeah... This one went where I wasn't expecting.

* * *

"I am but a visitor on Earth."

The paper cup warm in her hands from her steeping tea, Rachel smiled affectionately at the woman across from her. "I've felt like that before."

With her hands on either sides of her head and elbows on the table, Santana looked up at her through a fringe of messy bangs. She groaned, sliding one of her hands over her face. "Tell me," she shook her head, dropping her hand to lazily scrawl a _Unique thought_ in the margin of a writing assignment in front of her, "Why did I decide to become a teacher again?"

"_Well_…" Rachel set her tea down. She clasped her hands on the table and answered plainly, "You told me it was because you loved that moment when someone _got _what you were sharing with them."

Santana's eyebrow quirked up. _Watch your tenses_. "I said that?"

"Mmhm. You _also _said," Rachel stretched, watching Santana's reaction to the motion from below her eyelashes, "That it was more satisfying when you knew no one else had come before you."

"Yeah, that sounds like me." _It was Orson Welles, not Edgar Allen Poe_. Santana smirked. "You know how I loves me some virgins."

That got a muffled laugh from Rachel, who had pressed one hand to her mouth. Shaking her head, she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Who was your first?"

"Eh?" Raising her gaze from where she had just written _Good work, Jimmy. Just remember to proofread _Santana shuffled the paper over to the _Done _pile and picked up a new one, "You know who my first was. Puck."

Rachel waved her hand. "No, no I know _that_. I meant, who was _your _first virgin." She frowned, "Well, that you know of. People could lie, I suppose."

Santana pursed her lips, then pulled up the paper. "Oh, hold on, this is interesting."

"In a good way?"

"No…" Shuffling back through the pile of assignments she'd finished already, Santana frowned and pulled one out. "_Laura_…" she shook her head, reaching for the red pen and uncapping it, "How can you let Manuel continue _using_ you?"

Sitting up, Rachel leant over to snag the two papers from Santana before the pen tip could touch the paper, and, ignoring Santana's, "Hey!", she started scanning back and forth between them. Her eyebrows rose as she continued reading. Finally, she nodded, a disappointed expression on her face. "Well, how do you know it was him who cheated off her?"

Taking the offered papers back, Santana sighed and shoved them off to the side. Recapping her pen, she shrugged and grabbed her cooling cup of coffee. "I'll deal with it later," she explained, taking a sip, "And because prior experience has proven it." She made a face. "Ugh. Was I ever that obvious?"

Rachel grinned at her. "And _now _you admit that you weren't a saint in school," she teased, testing the side of her tea to see if it was cool enough to start drinking; deciding it was, she let out a mmm and licked her lips as soon as her first sip was taken. "But let's let that lie. I'm still waiting."

Santana rolled her eyes. Lifting her palm to set her chin onto it, she tilted her head and looked up as she started thinking, her forehead slightly wrinkling. Watching as her pinky started tapping against her coffee cup, Rachel smiled at the familiar sight.

Santana's hand tightened around her coffee cup, and she straightened. "That's actually a hard question to answer. Most of the people in high school were already well used." A half-smile crossed her face, and Santana sat back in her seat, her smile becoming a little regretful as she met Rachel's eyes, "Brittany wasn't a virgin when I first slept with her, and, you know, I could always say Finn, but I can't be sure that's true, either." She squinted. "Maybe… Matt or Mike?"

Rachel blinked. "At the _same time_?"

Santana immediately gave her an offended glare. "Even _I _wasn't that much of a slut, Rachel." She shook her head, "No, I briefly dated both of them in freshman year." She looked pointedly at Rachel, "_At_ _different times_."

"Sorry." Raising her hands in supplication, Rachel's apologetic look melted into a sincere smile. After a brief pause, she put her hand on the table, offering Santana her palm. When Santana smiled, covering it with her own, Rachel laced their fingers together. "Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to, so I appreciate it."

Squeezing her hand, Santana grinned, leaning forward to gently kiss Rachel. Sitting back, she picked up her coffee again. "Mmm. Okay," she murmured in between sips, "You have to do the same back. Who was _your _first cherry pluck?"

A slight blush across her cheeks, Rachel squeezed Santana's hand back. "Sam," she answered confidently.

Instantly, Santana's jaw dropped open. "Trouty Mouth told you he was a _virgin_?" she gasped.

Eyes widening with surprise, Rachel asked in alarm, "He wasn't?"

Shaking her head emphatically, Santana suddenly dissolved into laughter. Pulling her hand back, she managed to get out, "I'm s-sorry. I was going to tell you that I had been all up on that piece of man meat when we were dating, but I couldn't do that to you."

"Yes, because hearing that my current girlfriend had taken the virginity of my ex-boyfriend who had told me that I was special and he was honored his first time was with _me_ would have been _exactly _what I wanted to hear." Stung, Rachel crossed her arms, glaring at Santana, "I can't _believe _you."

Forcing more laughter back, Santana shook her head and tried to get Rachel to take her hand, frowning when she refused and continued glaring at her. "Okay… But, Rache, I _didn't _say it. You have nothing to be mad about. You were still Sam's first." She paused, then added carelessly, "I don't even know why you _care _so much."

Rachel's jaw tightened, and red stained the skin around her eyes. "I _care_," she started, her voice tight and low, "Because he made me feel special. That _I _was special. After Finn threw away his first time with _you_, Santana, I hadn't realized until I was with Sam how much that had made me feel… Like I wasn't _good enough_. And here…" Her chin trembled, and the wet in her eyes quickly started to well up, "And here was _Sam_, someone I loved that loved me _back_, someone amazing and sweet and handsome – _and he'd waited for me_. For _me_. Not for you or Mercedes or Quinn. _Me_."

Santana stared at her. "Rache – "

"No, _you_ _don't talk_. You've done enough already." Jutting her pointer finger at her, Rachel shook her head and stood up, angrily scooping up her scarf and jacket and bag, "Thank you, Santana, for turning such a nice work date into – into _this_. I don't care if I'm being inordinately emotional, but _sometimes_, Santana, sometimes you are just so obliviously _cruel_." Turning on her foot, she gave Santana one more angry betrayed look, managing out a, "Just… I'll talk to you later." Then, with her tea clutched protectively close to her chest, she pushed the door to the café open, closed her eyes, and stepped outside.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: **'You're what I never knew I needed,' was provided by an anon. Thanks! Anyway, just want to mention that this one contains Finntana friendship (and is fairly A/U [as if most of my stuff _isn't_]), so if that bothers you (as I know it bothers some), you don't have to read this chapter.

* * *

_You're what I never knew I needed. You're the answer to all the questions I ever wanted to ask. You're the one who makes everything better, and you're the one who makes me happy. _

_I guess what I'm saying is that you're everything. Don't ever let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Keep being yourself, Rachel. Shine._

Her fingers crumpling the edges of the plain piece of notebook paper she'd found waiting for her in her locker, Rachel tried to make sense of the words. She could read them, and it was all grammatically correct, but it still didn't make sense. Who could have written it? Who could have been struck with such romantic adoration that they would do something as classic as becoming a secret admirer?

There were no clues as to who had written the letter. The handwriting was a calculated round script, the writer evidently holding the pen high up on it so their palm didn't touch the paper at all – it had that waivery, unsure and light pressure look. Aside from relenting and going to the science room to find an alternate light source or maybe some fingerprinting powder, she was going to have to take everything at face value.

Sighing, Rachel read over the note again, allowed a smile to cross her face, and in a rather silly move, folded it up again and kissed the fold. Placing it securely in a small zippered pocket of her backpack, she finished putting away the textbooks she didn't need. Closing the door and spinning her lock, she smiled to herself once again, humming happily as she made her way towards her first class of the day.

Down the hall, Finn approached Santana. "Told you it would make her smile," he grinned proudly, "Rachel really likes getting letters. She even made us have an exchange diary when we were dating."

"Mmhm. And did she correct your spelling?" Santana looked at him as she turned and opened her own locker door.

"How'd you know that?"

"It's really not a stretch of imagination." Grabbing her own books, Santana paused with her hand on the door. "Okay, look." She closed the door and turned to face Finn fully, "You helped me, yes. But this _doesn't _make us bosom buddies."

Finn's gaze fell to her chest, and she rolled her eyes, snapping her fingers to get his attention again. "B.F.G.! Your relationship with _these_?" She moved her hand back and forth to gesture from one breast to the other, "Is _over_. You've already touched them once – which, god knows, was one time too _many_ – so now?" She raised her eyebrows, "Save it for your spank-bank."

Finn's expression, which had fallen, brightened, but then he looked confused. "Wait. You're giving me permission to…" he lowered his voice, "To jerk o – "

"Do _not _finish that sentence unless you want my vomit _all _over you." Santana glared at Finn, moving past him to start walking down the hall; after a second, he followed, "Just because I said it does _not _mean you have to repeat it in your oafish giant language. Fact is, we both know you already do it – as it happens to be the inevitable side effect of me being _smokin'_ hot."

Avoiding looking at her, Finn shuffled his shoulders, then dropped his chin. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Just stop talking now." Coming upon the first doorway to the choir room, Santana halted. She put her palm up. "Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Your _phone_." When Finn kept on staring down at her, Santana groaned and slapped her hand against Finn's upper thigh. "I swear to _god _that if this _isn't _your phone," she hissed as she shoved her hand into his front right pocket, "I will cut off _everything_ that makes you male."

"It's my phone, it's my phone!" Finn yelped, jumping away and pushing his own hand into his pocket to yank it out and all but throw it at Santana. As she started typing something on his keyboard, he stared at her with his eyebrows together. "I… I feel like I was just molested."

"Oh don't pretend it didn't turn you on," Santana scoffed, pressing a few more buttons and thrusting it back at him. "Here. The number for the local ice cream truck company. If you pay – or threaten – them enough, they'll show up wherever you want them to."

Finn looked from his phone back to Santana. "Ice cream…? But it's winter."

Santana rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, but don't bother telling B that. You asked how to get her to date you, didn't you? You help me with Rachel and I help you with Britts? Sounding even a _little _familiar now?"

A wide, pleased smile tugged at Finn's lips, and he impulsively wrapped his arm around Santana's shoulders. "You're just pretending to hate me, aren't you?"

"Hey! Hey! Who said you could touch me?" Half-heartedly struggling, Santana finally gave in and quickly squeezed his waist with her arm before stepping away. "Okay, now go. B's coming. Go get your girl, or some shit like that."

Grinning at her again, Finn quickly ran a hand through his hair, smoothed down his eyebrows, and was just about to turn around when Santana made a 'really?' noise and stopped him. Leaning up to pat down the random cowlick Finn had disturbed, she made a disgusted expression and pushed Finn away from her, grimacing at her palm. Trying to wipe it on her thigh, she grumbled to herself and entered the choir room, already formulating her next letter to Rachel in her head.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: **'After Noah's laughter died, there was a sharp knock on the door,' was supplied by an anon. Thanks! If it's not obvious, this is a follow up to chapter 39.

* * *

After Noah's laughter died, there was a sharp knock on the door. Staring at her glass of soymilk, then down at her hastily thrown on attire of sweats and loose tee, Rachel waited to hear Puck's heavy footfalls head towards the door. Instead, Puck's voice rose as he teased her, "Why don't you get that? It might just be for you."

"_Noah_," Rachel muttered. Furiously patting down her hair and tugging her sweats back up higher on her hips, she chanced a glance in the mirror behind the stove to make sure her makeup was suitable. She hadn't seen Santana in a couple of years, but she'd always had exacting expectations of how people should look, and to be honest, Rachel had had idle thoughts now and then of looking the fellow ex-gleek up just to show her how she wasn't the same fashion-shy teen she'd been.

No, it really wasn't fair of Puck to have just sprung this on her.

Hearing another sharp knock just before she put her hand on the doorknob, Rachel straightened her spine, affixed a relaxed polite smile on her face, and pulled the door open.

"It's about _time_, Puckerman. You knew I _wa_ – Oh. It's you. Wait, _you_?"

And there she was. In a designer dress that hugged her body even better than the dresses she wore in high school, makeup flawless and hair loose and framing her face, tumbling down her shoulders, Santana Lopez looked at once the same and _completely different_.

Rachel's heart thumped in her chest, and warmth immediately pooled in the bottom of her stomach. Still, she managed a smile, pulling the door farther open, "If it's any consolation, I had no idea you were coming until five minutes ago."

"Evidently…" Santana remarked dryly, somehow not exactly insulting. Walking past Rachel, she glanced at her over her shoulder, "I didn't know you were doing Puck."

"That's because I'm not," Rachel wrinkled her nose, shutting the door and unashamedly ogling Santana's ass, "We're roommates."

Santana paused, slim fingers pushing hair behind her ear as she started surveying what she could see of the apartment, "How the hell does that work out?"

"Well, we're both musically inclined. As you most probably know, Noah's band is becoming quite popular," Rachel waited for Santana's nod before she continued, "As well as my acting career is on the fast track. When we happen to be in the apartment at the same time, he helps me with my work, and I help him with his." Beat. "Would you like something to drink?"

Turning from where she was studying the print of John William Waterhouse's _The Siren _Rachel had ordered specially off the internet, Santana gave her a knowing look. "Singing men to their deaths, huh? Sure. What ya got?"

Rachel could feel a light blush cross her cheeks at the combination of Santana's tone and piercing gaze. "You know that painting? No, wait," she shook her head, once again reminded of what she was wearing when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror behind the stove again, "Don't answer that yet. If I leave you here, you think you can find something you'd want while I get changed?"

A familiar smirk settled on Santana's face. "Anything I want?" she asked, sliding her hand along the counter of the island, glancing at the glass of soymilk still waiting for Rachel to retrieve before turning back to her. She quirked an eyebrow, plump lips parting ever so slightly.

_Anything I want_. The heat in Rachel's stomach doubled, and she licked her lips. It had been too long, and there had always been an unwilling attraction to Santana on her part. This wasn't fair. With time, Santana seemed to have _perfected_ owning her sexual appeal.

But Rachel had, too. And she wasn't going to just sit back, leaving Santana to believe she was leading the show. That wasn't who Rachel _was_, and this was _her_ turf. So instead, she smiled warmly, not rising to whichever bait Santana had meant the comment to be, "Yes. Anything. There's the refrigerator and the wine rack, and probably something else Noah stashed in the pantry." She pointed at the small door to Santana's left, adding, "On my way, I'll drag Noah away from whatever it is he's doing and point him in your direction. He is, after all, the one you came for. _As well as_." She raised her voice, aiming it in the direction of his room, "_Being a lousy excuse for a host_."

"_Bite me_," he hollered back, and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Never mind. He'll be here soon," she promised.

The skin around Santana's eyes crinkled, and one of the most honest smiles she had ever given Rachel lit her face. "Yeah, that sounds like Puck."

Rachel instantly smiled back. "It does indeed. Anyway." She pulled her eyes away from Santana's lips, and, looking for something else to concentrate on, finally moved over to pick up her soymilk. Taking a sip, she padded back over to the entrance to the kitchen, acutely aware of Santana's gaze on her, "I can hear Noah starting to be on his way. If you excuse me?"

Santana tilted her head, lifting a hand. "Wine rack?"

Grinning, Rachel pointed behind Santana, "Feel free to open whatever you want; my fathers are always sending me more. It's like they _want _me to become an alcoholic or something." Shrugging, she moved her finger to a cupboard above Santana, "Glasses are in there, and the bottle opener should be in the dishwasher."

Santana nodded, already turning, "Got it."

"Good. I shouldn't be too long." Not staying to hear Santana's response, Rachel escaped to her room.

Yes, she decided, it was time to break out her _own _designer dress. Even if nothing became of it, or she decided it wasn't worth it, Rachel still wanted to beat Santana at her own game. Old ghosts and new passions practically demanded it. As well as, she bit her lip, pulling out one of her best dresses, it had been so long and Santana was legitimately attractive and maybe just maybe Puck was correct that some harmless flirting would make her feel better.


	47. Chapter 47

Santana's gaze dropped to Rachel's kiss-swollen lips. "You sure?" she asked again.

Blushing, Rachel knew she'd have to tell the truth, "I… I need some kind of release, but I refuse to touch myself while on school grounds."

"Like me touching you is any better," Santana pointed out, "But I get it." She tightened her arm around Rachel's waist, bringing her even closer. "Got to say I never expected this to happen," she teased lightly, pressing her lips against the corner of Rachel's eyebrow, trailing down her cheek and ending just shy of her mouth.

"What?" Rachel murmured, tilting her chin to try and close the distance.

"Uhm-uhn, not going to let it be that easy." Ghosting a kiss across Rachel's lips, Santana pulled her head back. Her hand cupped Rachel's lower back, keeping her against her body as she used her other hand to push Rachel's sternum, holding her upper back and shoulders against the wall. Once she was situated where she wanted her, Santana dragged her hand down Rachel's body.

Catching her breath, Rachel could only stare up at Santana, arms loosely wrapped around her neck. The wall was firm against her shoulders and head, Santana's body firm against her hips and belly. Her knees were weak, and the feeling of Santana's breath blowing across her lips did nothing to help.

Santana's lips barely brushed against her chin, and Rachel's lips parted to let out a breathy gasp. "You're… You're very good at this," she whispered, catching Santana's gaze.

Santana smirked. "I'm barely touching you." Lowering her eyes again, she continued her trail up Rachel's cheekbone; making her way to Rachel's ear, she murmured, "And I've barely started." Her hand reached down, finding the hem of Rachel's shirt, and she slipped her fingers underneath. Sliding her fingertips along Rachel's skin, she followed the deep intake of breath Rachel took at the sudden touch. Rubbing her thumb over the bump of Rachel's hipbone, she drew her head back. "Ready?"

Rachel swallowed, dug her fingers into Santana's shoulders, and pulled herself up to whisper her answer directly into Santana's mouth, "Please…"


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N: **...This _could _be seen as a companion piece to my short story, Puck's Epic Plan.

* * *

Santana raised an eyebrow when she received Puck's text. _dbl d8 w/ u n rache n me n britt?_ Turning to her girlfriend sitting next to her, she nudged her shoulder.

"Hmm?" Rachel asked, and Santana offered her phone. As the smaller girl read the text, Santana took the opportunity to move her hair away and start nibbling on her ear.

"Ahh! _San_. I'm trying to read this."

Santana grinned, moving her head down to start peppering kisses along the girl's jaw. She knew it was just a token protest, as Rachel wasn't moving away. "Mmm… What do you think?" she murmured, placing a lingering kiss to the side of Rachel's mouth.

Rachel shivered, pushing the phone away so she could shift and pull Santana into a proper kiss. "Seems awfully circumspect," she murmured, sliding her hands behind Santana's neck, licking along her bottom lip.

"Mmhm. I agree." Capturing Rachel's tongue and drawing it into her mouth, she mmed happily, circling her waist. "Still, it sounds like it could be interesting…"

Rachel frowned and pushed Santana away. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Not like _that_, Rachel. I meant the watching them try to pretend that they're not tryin' to get us in bed. Both B and Puck _suck _at being sneaky." She paused. "…Puck more than B. B has her moments."


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: **Santana and Kurt's first diologue lines were supplied by an anon. Thanks!

* * *

"Kurt, I swear if you send that text, I'll…"

"You'll what, Santana? Hmm? Maybe if you actually grow some bigger 'lady bits' and tell her yourself, you'll find that she might actually like you back."

Santana turned so her back was to Kurt. "That's not funny, Gaylord Tight-Pants," she responded archly.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's not meant to be." He glanced at his phone. Sighing, he saved the text to Drafts, then walked up next to her. "Santana." He gave her an unimpressed look, "Why are you being such a coward about this?"

Santana threw him a glare. "Who are you? The big gay fairy godfather?"

"I'm going to be your big gay fairy _undertaker _if you don't get off your high horse and go tell Rachel _you're in love with her _before you die from a broken heart when someone _else_ comes along and _scoops her up_." Flipping his bangs, Kurt held up his phone again. "Twenty seconds. Or I take it into my own perfectly manicured hands. _Don't_ try me."

* * *

Barely pausing the rubbing of her towel over her face and neck, Rachel picked up her phone without looking at it. "Hello?" When no one answered, she frowned and tried again, closing her eyes against the rough of the fabric, "Hello?"

"Rachel?" Kurt's voice finally came through, sounding far away and out of breath, "Rachel?"

Rachel frowned. "Kurt? Are you okay?"

"Rachel! Ack, _Santana_! Stop it! This is for your own good!"

"Fucking hell it is," Santana's voice came on, and it sounded like some sort of struggle was going on on the other side of the phone. "Gimme the _damn __**phone**_!"

"_Your own good_! Rachel! Ehh, _Rachel_. …_Hear me_?"

Rachel stared into the darkness of the towel. "Uhm… Is Santana killing you?"

"You bet your ass I am!"

"Oh my _god_. You're such a _drama queen_! Bigger than me! Dammit, _Rachel_! San – Santana _loves _– " There was a deep grunt, a higher pitched grunt, and then Kurt was gasping out, "_Santana loves you_!"

Immediately, everything stopped. Rachel dropped her hand, leaving her towel draped over face. "I'm sorry?"

There was coughing, and then Kurt's voice came back directly into the speaker, loud and raspy as if he was yelling after someone, "You're paying for my clothing, Santana! This is authentic Gucci!" His voice lowered. "_God_. That girl needs _therapy_."

"Santana loves me?"

Kurt scoffed. "Great, Rachel, dear. Santana nearly _kills _me and I don't even get an 'Are you okay?'"

But Rachel was barely listening. Her heart pounding in her chest and starting to feel lightheaded, she mumbled distractedly, "I'll make Santana pay for your clothes. Thank you. Feel better soon," and hung up. A second passed, and then she was scrambling up, throwing her towel into her gym bag, scooping it up while blinking furiously against the light, and ran to collect her street shoes. Jamming them onto her feet, she found Santana's number in her phonebook, and hoping against hope Santana would _actually _pick up, hit _Call_.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: **An anon provided, 'She couldn't do this anymore. Rachel Berry was joining the Troubletones.' Thanks!

* * *

She couldn't do this anymore. Rachel Berry was joining the Troubletones. All she had to do was to find Mercedes or Santana, even Shelby if she was desperate. It was going to be awkward working with her mother, but it's what she had to do. She just... Couldn't be around the New Directions anymore.

"I know I'm going to have to make some sacrifices," she announced as a greeting when she found Mercedes, Santana, and Brittany in the bathroom.

Santana glared at her through the mirror, pausing the application of her eyeliner, "What the hell are you talking about now?"

Rachel smiled at Mercedes, then turned to Santana, aware of Brittany watching her through the mirror as well. She licked her lips, raising her chin. "I want to join the Troubletones."

Mercedes was already shaking her head. "Oh _hell _no. You are _not _barging in and taking over!"

"No. Uh uh. _No_." Shaking her head as well, Santana whirled around to glare at Rachel directly, "_No way_."

Having expected that reaction, Rachel held up her hands. "Please, that's not what I'm asking. I know Troubletones is yours. I'm," she swallowed, averting her eyes, "I'm willing to take a background role."

"Hah! As _if_." Scoffing, Santana stared her down.

Rachel shook her head, "I'm not lying. _Please_, just hear me out. I can explain – "

"Oh come _on_, _Rachel_," Mercedes took a step forward to come shoulder to shoulder with Santana. Crossing her arms, she glared accusingly at her, "You're fooling _no one_. You're just feeling jealous and threatened that we're the _better _group, so you're bailing ship."

"Yeah," Santana nodded arrogantly, eyebrows high and taunting, "It's pathetic."

Looking back and forth between them, Rachel tried once again. "Yes, I'm aware my reasoning could look like that, especially with past circumstances, but I _assure _you that's not why I'm here. I just can't deal with the New Directions anymore, and – "

"Oh?" Santana regarded her disbelievingly, anger growing as she interrupted Rachel, "So you don't even care _who_ it is you join?"

"What? _No_. That's not what I meant."

"But it's what you said." Sounding final, Mercedes shook her head. "C'mon girls," she turned to give Rachel one last unimpressed look, "Let's get out of here. We have Sectionals to win. And we don't need _you _to do it."

Turning to leave as well, Santana stared at Rachel coolly. "Run back to your overgrown boyfriend, hobbit. At least _he's_ someone who pretends to want you with him."

Watching them go, Rachel closed her eyes when Brittany slowly approached. "What do you want, Brittany?" she asked quietly, dropping her head and pressing her chin into her shoulder, "Want to add your own parting words?"

"No." Sounding troubled, a light touch to the back of Rachel's hand made Rachel look up; when she did, she was surprised to feel a couple of tears escape her eyes. Brittany frowned at her, looking concerned. "It's not like they said?" she asked.

Laughing humorlessly, Rachel jerkily shrugged her shoulders. "No." Her lower lip trembled, and she used her free hand to swipe at the wetness in her eyes. "I want to be in the Troubletones _because _of who – _what _– they," her lips curled up, and she met Brittany's gaze, "_You_ are."

Taking a deep breath, Brittany pursed her lips. Finally, she shrugged. "Okay. Let's go see your mom."

"What?" Rachel stared at her.

"Rachel." Looking directly at her, Brittany smiled and squeezed her hand, "I know how it feels to be with people you don't want to be around. Like most of the Cheerios." Her nose wrinkled. "Or the water polo jocks. They're mean.

"Besides," she added, turning to start pulling Rachel out of the bathroom and sliding her hand more securely around Rachel's, "I already know I can sing better than you, so I'm not threatened."

Not knowing how to react to that, Rachel tightened her grip around Brittany's hand and sped up to walk next to her. "Thank you," she whispered.

Brittany smiled down at her, "No problem. But, now, you can help me convince Santana to fully commit to coming _out_ already." She sighed, expression falling. "I want her to be able to give me sweet lady kisses without needing to use the janitor's closet. Everyone knows we're together, already, anyway..." she trailed off, mumbling.

Blinking, Rachel shifted her hand up to take Brittany's arm. She smiled up at her, "I'll see what I can do."


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: **Alternate scene for 2x09, Special Education.

* * *

Rachel called her after Puck left, staring at the spot he'd last touched on her body. It was on her hip, right above her hip bone, and as she ghosted over her skin with her hand, she felt sick.

"You gotta stop callin' me, hobbit," Santana answered, popping what sounded like bubble gum, "It's bringing my rep down."

"How is it doing that?" Rachel answered distractedly, feeling her face and neck going hot, "No one has to look in your phone."

"Oh. Right. Well, it _would _bring my rep down if they knew. But since they won't…" Santana sighed, and it sounded like she was shifting, the rustle of fabric telling Rachel the Cheerio was most likely on her bed; more discomfort welled up in Rachel's body, and she covered her mouth with her hand, "What's up?"

Rachel slowly sat down on the edge of her bed. "Did your first time hurt?" she whispered, closing her eyes to stop them from stinging.

"First time?" Santana's voice was loud, "Like, _sex _first time?"

When Rachel didn't answer, Santana's voice became cool and uninterested again. "How should I remember? I knew I had to get it over with, so I got drunk and grabbed the first guy who was hot and fucked him."

Rachel drew in a deep breath. "It wasn't Puck?"

There was silence on the end of the line.

The spot on her hip was burning again, and Rachel fisted the fabric of her skirt, clenching her eyes shut, straining to listen over the sound of her constricting muscles.

Finally, "…I don't know."

Shifting forward, Rachel lowered herself to the ground, drawing her knees in close to her chest.

"I don't know if it was Puck or not. I know he was my second because he's a man-whore and I needed someone _known_, someone who had the juice, and, fuck, he at least had the reputation for getting the job _done_. It wasn't like I was looking for romance or shit like that."

When she paused, Rachel reached a trembling hand out to touch the fabric of her carpet. Running her fingers through it, her chin began to shake, the heat in her head becoming pressure building from her chest and behind her eyes.

"So you gonna say anything to explain your game of Tell?"

Tears pushed through her eyelids, and Rachel scrunched her face tight, digging her chin into her chest. Her arm tightened around her knees.

"Berry. If you're getting' _off _on this, I swear – "

"No." Forcing it out, Rachel sucked in a shallow breath, new heat rising up her legs and pooling in her stomach and below. "No," she repeated, swallowing and shaking her head, "I just needed to hear that." Her chest constricted, and she pulled her hand up from the carpet to press it against her eyes. She forced herself to smile. "Thank you."

The rustle of bed sheets again, followed by bed springs, and Santana's voice came through sharp and suspicious, "Why? You finally gonna spread your legs for the towering oaf you call your boyfriend? Lose your…" She lowered her voice, like she was saying something unpleasant, "_V-Card_?"

The sick feeling settled in her throat. "No," she whispered, keeping her hand on her eyes, "I can't do that anymore."

"What? You're saying you and Finn already – "

"No." The spot Puck had last touched on her body throbbed. "No." She curled her fingers and palm, catching the tears dripping from her eyes, "No. Puck just left." 


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N: **You can blame Lea Michele's legs for this one.

* * *

Walking directly up to Rachel, Santana pushed her palm over her shoulder against the back of her chair, bending and dropping her other hand. Sliding it down Rachel's crossed leg, fingers and palm cupping the smooth calf and slipping under her knee sock, she stared directly into Rachel's eyes. "_This_..."

"This...?" Rachel breathed, trembling, eyes fluttering shut when Santana's nose brushed along her cheek.

"Needs to be wrapped around me." Ghosting her lips across Rachel's when her head fell back, the tip of her tongue dipped out to trace her full lower lip. Smirking when Rachel's mouth opened, Rachel lifting a hand to press against Santana's breastbone, she hmmed, allowing the smaller girl to push their mouths together. "_San_..."

"_Rachel_..." Santana parroted huskily, scraping her fingernails along the line of Rachel's calf. Swallowing the resulting gasp and moan, she slowly, slowly pulled her hand up, barely touching her skin at all by the time she reached her knee. Rubbing her thumb along the tender joint, she waited until Rachel's dark gaze met her own to whisper, "My house. Eight."

Swallowing, Rachel's fingers lightly dug into the fabric of Santana's shirt. Dropping her eyes and trying to catch her breath, she shivered when Santana's lips brushed along her cheek, trailing down soft and teasing until they pressed against hers, asking for attention. Eyes flicking up to meet Santana's again, she lifted her other hand to curl around Santana's neck, and whispered her answer directly into Santana's mouth.


	53. Chapter 53

**P**urple was the color of the sweater Rachel was wearing when Santana walked up to her, tickets in hand and cocky smirk on her face (there was _no _way Rachel was going to turn her down).

**E**leven was the number of days it took Rachel to realize Santana had been serious about asking her out to the Barbra Streisand Experience (and it was only after Kurt set her straight).

**Z**ero was the number of seconds it took her to pull her phone out and call Santana to invite her out for coffee that very afternoon so they could start preparing for the trip (or at least that was what Rachel told herself).

**B**readstix was the restaurant their coffee date eventually ended up at after Santana demanded it after The Lima Bean only offered crappy stale cookies (Santana'd checked).

**E**uropean brandy was the name of the color used to upholster the car seats Santana and Rachel were sitting in when they shared their first kiss, the not-so-romantic strains of LMAO as the perfect backdrop to the wide eyed stare Rachel gave Santana afterwards (she had been, after all, just leaning forward to change the radio station).

**R**ight away was how long Santana waited to kiss Rachel again, slipping her hand around the back of her neck and tugging her forward, smiling into the kiss when Rachel sighed and relaxed into her, kissing her back (it still took longer than Santana expected for Rachel to open her mouth for her, though).

**R**oughly ten minutes was the amount of time it took for Rachel to pull herself away from Santana's lips and wandering hands, sucking in deep breaths and trying to wish Santana a cordial good night with a voice that couldn't un-husk, giving in and pressing one more needy kiss to Santana's mouth (when she finally stumbled out of Santana's car, she was gratified with the knowledge that Santana wasn't unaffected, the girl's lips swollen and hair loose and messy after Rachel's curious hands released her ponytail).

**Y**es was the automatic answer Rachel gave Santana after the amazing Barbra Streisand Experience, yanking Santana down by the collar of her shirt to give her new girlfriend the first kiss of their official relationship (making Santana moan and practically attack her mouth when Rachel finished by whispering a promise about what Santana would get when they got back to the hotel room).


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N**: Prompt from itsacurse for my drunken fill; Santana plans for Rachel's 18th birthday. Thanks!

* * *

"It _has _to be the best, you hear me?" Santana growled, advancing on the small, rotund man.

"I swear," he stuttered, taking a step back; honestly, he wondered why he was letting this teenage girl boss him around, but, you know, she was _scary_.

Santana studied him. "She's vegan, okay?" she suddenly made clear, crossing her arms.

Feeling happy to get the (temporary) reprieve, the small, rotund man (Brian Stoddard, officially introduced) nodded so fast his head threatened to pop off of his neck. "I swear," he put a hand to his heart, "That everything will be guaranteed to the fullest extent satisfactory."

Santana stared at him. "…Good," she finally allowed, putting a hand up to push her hair behind ear. "One less person to go all Lima Heights on."

Brian sighed. Another close call.

* * *

"What?" Rachel laughed, allowing Santana to take her hand and lead her down what she guessed was the park path (she'd peeked under the blindfold, okay? How could she not?), "Is Santana Lopez afraid of something?"

"_No_," Santana snapped, coming to a stop. A hot hand settled on Rachel's hip, and she immediately put her chin up, accepting the demanding kiss foisted on her lips. Moaning at the hint of tongue teasing the crease of her mouth, Rachel tried to pull Santana closer.

But Santana took a step back. "No," she husked, audibly swallowing, "No macking 'til the main event."

Rachel, sucking in a deep breath, frowned under her blindfold. "Not fair."

"Life sucks," Santana reminded joyfully, and then Rachel was tugged forward again.

"This better be worth it," was all Rachel could mutter.

* * *

"_Oh my god_," Rachel squealed, the blindfold clutched forgotten in her hand, "You actually recreated Barbra's Bat Mitzvah's food banquet?"

Santana grinned proudly, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder as the smaller girl surveyed the banquet and her Glee friend's scattered around the clearing where Santana had 'officially' asked to be her girlfriend. "You know it, babe," she whispered, lips turning up. "I knew you'd get it."

"Of course!" Turning to place the most passionate of kisses she could on her girlfriend's mouth, Rachel giggled. Santana was the _best_!


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: **Prompt from SSA for another drunken fill; Santana asking Rachel if she's REALLY kissed a girl, or has only sung about it, and if she's actually only sung about it, asking if she wants to explore that sapphic territory. Thanks!

* * *

"Berry."

"Santana?" Looking up from the piano, Rachel affixed a polite smile on her face. It wasn't often Santana addressed her solely, so she was curious as to what the other girl wanted.

Santana sighed, then smoothly leaned herself against the piano, artfully removing the notebook Rachel had been transcribing her newest original song into; looking over it with cool eyes, she suddenly dropped it, pushing it behind her back. "Berry. Have you _seriously _kissed a girl?"

"Ah!" Pausing from where she had been reaching for her notebook, Rachel frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"Pshh. Of _course _you do." Rolling her eyes, Santana suddenly straddled the piano bench, leaning in so close her eyes looked like giant dark orbs. "You. A girl. Lips touch?"

Pretending to be so unaffected as to be bored, Rachel smoothed the bangs back from her face. "Santana," she tried to divert the conversation, "Would you be so kind as to give me back my notebook...?"

"Ah ah ah!" Wagging her finger, Santana smirked. "You _haven't_. Tell me. Are you _curious _for it?"

Clicking her teeth together, Rachel pressed her lips together. "Santana..."

"Simple question, Berry."

"_Fine_. No. I haven't."

"Hah!" Her smirk turning completely predatory, Santana leaned in even closer. "Do you _want _to kiss a girl...?"

Rachel's heart, which had decided to hide in her ribcage, only peeking out whenever the other girl stopped talking, gave a slow, deep pump. "San..." She shivered when a warm hand suddenly pushed some free bangs behind her ear.

"Do you _want _to kiss a girl?" Santana repeated, and Rachel's heart thumped again. But, before she could answer, her eyes already fluttering shut from the feeling of Santana's thumb brushing across her cheek, Santana's lips pressed into hers.

Did she want? Processing the gentle pressure of Santana's lips, the shifting of Santana's body even closer, Rachel knew. _No_, she didn't want to kiss just a _girl_.

She wanted to kiss _Santana._


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N**: Prompt from miseradreamer for another drunken fill; Santana gets her and Rachel fake IDs and gives Rach her first gay bar experience. Thanks!

* * *

Almost vibrating with energy, Rachel hung on Santana's arm. "You _sure _these'll work?" she repeated for the twentieth time, lips so close to Santana's ear that she could have been whispering and Santana would have heard her.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Has Eduardo ever let us down before? C'mon." She smiled, leaning in to drop a kiss to Rachel's nose, "Look cool and poised when we reach the bouncer. I _know_ you know how to do that."

Sighing but still trying to look resolute, Rachel nodded. "Okay," she settled a determined look on her face, "I'm twenty one. I'm twenty one and I've been to a gay bar before. I _have_."

Santana smirked, shaking her head. "Rache. C'mon. Act _normal. _Don't act _stupid_."

"I'm not acting stupid!" Gasping, Rachel glared at her girlfriend, barely noticing when the bouncer asked for their I.D.s. Distractedly handing the woman her fake I.D., she was so busy being mad at her girlfriend that it was really only when Santana pressed a cool beer into her hand that she realized they weren't outside anymore. "San," she gasped again, tugging on Santana's arm, "Those... That guy's _wearing a bra_."

"And welcome to Drag Night." Shaking her head, Santana smiled down at her. "Rache, we're in a place where we can just be ourselves. Your fathers let me have you until two. So." She slid her hands around Rachel's waist, hooding her eyes into a seductive look, "Dance with me?"


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N: **Prompt from SSA for another drunken filll; A prompt based off of the Sebastian/Kurt/Rachel coffee shop scene/photoset that where instead of Finn's funny picture, we have a Pezberry elicit affair picture used to threaten Rachel into not performing. Thanks!

* * *

Staring down at the photograph, Rachel's stomach turned. There, in plain color photography, was the _one _thing she knew could uproot everything she'd worked for. Her heart twisted in her chest. _How _had Sebastian gotten this?

Kurt, trying to save _some _kind of face, spluttered. "Sebastian!" he glared, "You give the _whole _gay community a bad name. Why are you doing this?"

Sebastian, coifed hair and arrogant smile, securely placed his palm onto the table, leaning down to whisper dramatically, "Because I can."

Her breathing turning shallow, Rachel's nails tapped the picture. "How..." She swallowed, "How did you get this?"

A slow, cruel smile turned Sebastian's lips up. "Really, Rachel," he purred, straightening, "Do you think I'd do _nothing _when given such juicy gossip as the sort given to me? Especially when it deals with my _enemy_?"

Rachel stared down at the picture. Her and Santana... That was _personal_. Tamping down on the urge to vomit, Rachel slid the photo closer to herself. "Sebastian," she grunted, trying to swallow her vitriol, "You are the lowest of the low."

The boy had the nerve to laugh in her face. "But that really doesn't matter, does it?" he asked, leaning even closer, "Because you _know _I have you beat, don't you?"

* * *

Kurt's hands, while warm, weren't the ones she wanted. "Santana," she whispered into the phone, "We really need to talk."


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N: **Another drunken fill for miseradreamer; Santana finds out the hard way that Rachel does not react well to being tickled. Thanks!

* * *

Santana's fingers were ruthless. Unrelenting and cruel, they searched out every tender part of Rachel's body. Xylophoning down her ribs, sliding along her waist, Santana couldn't stop. No matter how much Rachel squirmed and protested.

"San!" she gasped, trying to curl herself into a tight ball, "San. _Stop_!"

Grinning toothily, Santana propped herself onto her knees, her hands on Rachel's sides keeping her upright. "Not gonna happen, Berry," she crowed, searching for the even _better _spot. Once she'd discovered that Rachel was ticklish, she'd decided that she needed to find the _ultimate _ticklish spot.

Rachel, to her credit, wanted none of it. Feeling Santana's hair tickling her neck, the girl's hot breath puffing along her face, Rachel kicked out with her feet. Catching Santana's knee, she didn't stop her defense. Kicking and kicking again, she took advantage of the slight reprieve to wrap her hands around Santana's wrists. "_Santana_," she ground out, "I'm _serious_. **_No tickling_**!"

Grunting as a blunt heel whacked her knee, Santana recoiled just enough to catch her bearings. Oh _hell no_, she growled to herself, no hobbit's gonna catch her off balance! Upping her assault, she shifted so her knees were on either sides of Rachel's thighs, trapping her legs closed. "Just try," she crowed, meeting Rachel's dark, enflamed eyes, "_Make me_ stop."


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N: **Another drunken fill prompt from miseradreamer; Santana decides to sneak into Rachel's room through her window for sexy times, but Rachel hits her over the head with her bedazzled brush believing she is an intruder. Thanks!

* * *

Santana couldn't believe she had sunk so low. Gripping the branch as hard as she could, she peered into the dull yellow of the window she knew was Rachel's.

Again, she wondered what the hell it was she doing. Sure, she'd recently discovered that the hobbit with the horrible sense of fashion was a fucking good lay, but how had her life happened so that she had to rely on that ugly eye-sore for her relief?

Well, fuck whatever. Rachel could totes get her off. And she fuckin' _needed _to get off.

Once sure that no other light was on in the home, Santana uncoiled herself from the branch she'd been straddling. It made sense that Rachel's light would still be on, seeing as the girl was _obsessive _about practicing her art. Long after her fathers went to sleep, she'd be singing. And, well, Santana had no qualms if that meant that she could more easily slip into Rachel's room.

Because, you know, Rachel was amazing in bed. And, fuck, that was all that mattered, okay? _All that mattered_.

Pulling herself up into the next level, Santana paused to catch her breath. Rachel's room was the next level, and though she'd never attempted to enter from that certain space before, she honestly couldn't think of any problem with doing so now. Would the hobbit lock her window? _Fuck no_! Why would she? And 'specially not when Santana practically _promised _to show up, yeah?

Without bothering to rap on the window pain, Santana shoved the window open. She was _not _going to be kept waiting!

Dropping her leg over the sill, ducking under the window proper, Santana couldn't help but preen when she barely made a noise landing within the confines of her fuck buddy's room.

The warmth wrapping around her body was welcome. The solid object beaning her over the head was not.

"_Fuckin' **fuck**," _she yelled, covering her head as she dropped to the floor, trying her best to get out of the way of fucking sudden attack. Rolling onto her stomach, she crunched as small as she could. If she presented as small of a target as she could, she could totes overpower the attacker, yeah?

But as sudden as the attack happened, it as suddenly stopped. "_Santana_," Rachel's voice gasped, "_What are you doing here_?"

Without moving from her safe position, Santana muttered, "Would you believe gettin' it on with you? _Fuck_, Rachel! I mean - _fuck_."


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: **Yet another drunken fill for miseradreamer; Rachel and Santana decide to go on a road trip to New York, but their car breaks down 20 miles outside of Lima. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel glared at the useless hunk of junk that constituted her 'journey to her destiny'. "_Really_," she demanded, kicking the nearest wheel, "**_Really_**_?"_

"And that does fuckin' what good?" Santana growled, slamming her palm onto the hood of the car. "Feeling better, short stack?"

Ignoring the nickname, Rachel kicked the car again. "It's the _universe_," she yelled into the air, "Punishing me, right?"

"Punishing _me_ is more like it," Santana muttered, jerking open the driver's seat door. "Seriously," she muttered, hoisting her knee onto the seat, leaning in to dig through the cooler sitting behind the passenger seat, "Too much to hope for sudden muteness, God?" Pulling out a barely chilled bottle of water, she twisted the top anyway. "Want some water?" she poked her head out of the door, giving Rachel a lazy glance; honestly, it would be _so much easier _if Rachel said no and stayed outside, being the proverbial lamb offered up to the next travelers.

_Whose i_dea was it to visit New York, anyway? _Rachel's_, of course.

Well, to her credit, Rachel managed an hour alongside the road before she huffed and puffed and sweated her way back into the car. Santana, sunglasses securely on her eyes and the driving seat reclined as far as it could go, barely twitched when the girl fished her own water bottle from the melting ice. "Have fun?" she asked dryly.

"Shut up."

"Told you~"

"_Shut_. _Up_."

Santana smirked. "Love you too. Ready to go home, yet?"

"No. Flippin'. Way."

Despite herself, Santana grinned. "Great," she offered, completely serious, "Then you have Triple A? I _wants _to get to New York before the snow comes, you get me?"

Rachel's hand pressed against her own, and Santana easily laced her fingers with the other girl's. "Don't worry," Rachel sighed, sitting up to drop a kiss on Santana's forehead, "At the very least, we could take the train..."


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N: **Another drunken drabble for mymomthinksimfunny; one of them gets a tongue ring and surprises the other. Thanks!

* * *

Standing on her tiptoes, Rachel tried to look over the people crowding the airport commons area. "Honestly," she whispered to herself, "If people would only be _accommodating_." Still, ten minutes after arriving at the airport, Rachel knew she was looking at the woman she was waiting for.

Backpack shouldered high on her back, dark eyes sweeping the crowd Rachel was stuck behind, Santana Lopez's neutral expression slowly turned into one of happiness. 'Rachel,' she mouthed, picking up her pace.

Pushing her way past strollers and huddled adults, Rachel met her halfway. "_Santana_," she whispered, hands coming up to cup the woman's cheeks, fingers automatically threading in her hair. Before she could say anything more, Santana's hands mirrored hers, pulling her in.

When Santana's tongue swept along her lip, she automatically opened her mouth, taking that step forward to crash into Santana's body. As her tongue twined with Santana's, she knew the _exact moment _Santana realized something was different.

"Rache - "

"_Shh_." Cutting Santana off, Rachel grinned and grabbed her hand. "Come on," she urged, "I'm sure you need to use the rest room, right? And I'm sure the luggage'll take a while…"

The moment the stall door closed behind Santana, backpack dropped unceremoniously to the floor, Rachel kissed her again. "I missed you," she moaned, grinning when Santana's curious tongue dipped into her mouth. Santana's hands tightened around her arm and back.

"_Jesus_," she ripped her mouth away, "Is _that_?"

Rachel smiled. "Do you like it?" she asked, knowing the question was pointless because of the dark eyes boring into hers. She clicked her new piercing against her teeth, "I can't wait until I get to use this _against_ you. Can you?"

"_Dammit_." Looking as if she didn't know if she should be angry or turned on, Santana shoved her hand behind Rachel's neck. "You're a naughty girl," she growled, using her new grip to angle Rachel's head up to accept a bruising kiss, "But, _fuck_, no. I can't." Her other hand suddenly fell, moving to find one of Rachel's. Tugging her from her shoulder, she pushed her hand down. "God, Rache, you're so _hot_," she whispered, shoving her tongue back into her mouth, searching for the ring, "You're burnin' me up."

Slamming Santana back against the stall door, Rachel tore her hand from Santana's. Making quick work of the fly of her jeans, her other hand moving up to hold Santana's head up as she dragged her tongue along the column of her neck, dipping into each indent and sucking on the _one place _Rachel knew drove Santana crazy, she used her body to keep Santana from surging forward when her fingers slid into wet heat. "You've completely ruined your underwear…"

"That happened when you stuck your tongue in my mouth," Santana moaned, arm tightening around her shoulders. "Raaaaache… I… I need your tongue…"

"Where?"

Santana jerked when Rachel's fingers increased their pressure. "M-mouth. More can - oh _god _- w-_wait_… I just - _fuck_! - Rache, _fuck me_."


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N: **Another drunken drabble for ikalawangboses; Rachel asked Brittany for help in learning how to do a lap dance that she'll be giving to Santana as a birthday present after the surprise party that she also organized. Unfortunately she didn't factor in that she'll be doing the lap dance while drunk. Thanks!

* * *

"No, I really don't think that I should imbibe," Rachel tried to push the Solo cup full of some kind of sweet smelling alcohol and mixture back into Brittany's hands, "I'm the host of this party, am I not?"

"Raaaachel," Brittany sighed, pushing the cup back at her, "No. You're Santana's date. And look at her." She pointed to the side where Santana was currently dirty dancing against Quinn, the blonde blushing wildly as she pushed her ass back into her pelvis, "She's so far gone that it wouldn't be _fair _for you to not join her. Besides..." she leaned down, sending vodka-smelling breath across Rachel's lips, "Aren't you nervous?"

Rachel tried to cross her arms, finally giving in when the blonde shoved the cup even harder against her hand. "Brittany," she sighed, staring down at the slightly green looking liquid, "Be it that I'm nervous, I just think I should have _some _sort of control..."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Control, right," she snorted, leveling a finger at the smaller girl when she _finally _took the cup, "Take control of your relationship! Weren't _you _the one telling me you were dissatisfied at how slow Santana was going with your relationship? Come on. Join the Dark Side. We have cookies!"

Cracking a smile that _may _have had something to do with the proud smile Santana sent her from across the room when the music changed to another song, Santana squeezing Quinn's shoulder before starting to weave her way towards Rachel and Brittany, Rachel sighed and gave in. Taking a deep swallow, she took another, and another before Santana finally reached her. She had to give Brittany props - she certainly knew how to make alcohol not taste like alcohol. She'd have to make sure the blonde was her bartender for the night...

* * *

Brittany had been an _amazing_ bartender. The only thing Rachel hadn't counted on was the fact that the blonde _truly _didn't know how to keep the levels of her drinks in the 'safe zone'. So, when the birthday party was slowing, Santana going around punching everyone under eighteen years old while bragging that she was "a fuckin' _adult_, losers!", Rachel was all too eager to kick everyone out so she could start putting all the extra lessons she'd put in the week before.

Pushing Santana into the recliner, figuring it was already there and available for the music system set up in Rachel's basement, Rachel busted out laughing when Santana tried to drag her onto her lap. "No, Saaaan," she giggled, wagging her finger at the pouting girl, "Sit tight! I _told _you, be patient."

"But I don't wanna!" Santana protested, making another grab at her, "You just... I wanna kiss you."

Heat pouring into her body at the other girl's words, Rachel almost gave in... Before she remembered _why _she was doing what she was trying to do. She and Santana weren't _official_, yet, and hopefully this dance was going to achieve that goal. Sure, she knew Santana found her attractive (and... Rachel blushed heavily, _fuckable_), but Rachel truly wanted to show Santana that she could _match _her. She could provide _anything _that she needed. They already challenged each other intellectually, so why not add in some sexy mysteriousness...?

"Just... Wait, okay?" she chided, using a hand on Santana's breastbone to push her back, "Don't you want to see what I'm... I've been planning?"

Growling, Santana pouted, but nodded, giving her a glare. "When you least ex... es... Espect it, Berry, I'mma gonna git ya."

Rachel swallowed. "I hope so..."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Assured that Santana was where she wanted her, Rachel moved over to the currently silent sound system. Slipping in the CD Brittany had helped her compile songs for, Rachel took a deep breath, finishing off the last giant mouthful of what Brittany had called her 'Coop of Dead Ahs'. Heat suffusing her body, starting at her stomach and spreading throughout her body, she counted to ten and switched the music on, affixing her most sultry expression on her face.

Feeling the loud bass pound in her body, Rachel stalked over to Santana. Taking note of the hungry look on her face, her fists white on the arms of the recliner, she smirked. Maybe this was going to go much easier than expected.

Swaying, allowing all of Brittany's teachings run through her brain, Rachel slooooooowly turned around, presenting Santana her back. Using her hips and ass in a slow, teasing swirl, she glanced over her shoulder to gauge Santana's expression. The alcohol swirling in her stomach giving her the courage to up her efforts at the dark arousal on Santana's face, she backed up until she could _feel _the energy washing from Santana's body. "No hands," she warned.

"Berry - "

"No, no _hands_," Rachel repeated, turning back around. Bending close so her hair brushed against Santana's cheek, she moved so close her lips almost slid along Santana's. "Do you want this dance to continue?" she whispered, barely heard over the music, able to keep most of her body undulating to the beat.

Swallowing, Santana nodded, hands even whiter as her fingers dug into the fabric of the chair.

"Good." Glancing behind her as she thought about it, Rachel shrugged and clambered onto Santana's lap, knees tight on either side of her waist.

"_Rache_," Santana groaned, but to her credit didn't try to put her hands on her body.

Pushing her pelvis in close to Santana's abs, sliding her hands on either sides of her shoulders, Rachel groaned when Santana's breath blew across her neck. "You like this?" Rachel teased, heat roaring even more distractingly through her body, employing another one of Brittany's moves when Santana's mouth dropped open in a silent 'o', her eyes stuck on the sight of Rachel _almost _humping her.

"Fuck, how could I not?" Santana barely got out, eyes darkening even more, "Rachel, _jesus_."

"I prefer Rachel _Berry_," Rachel teased, wrapping her arms around Santana's shoulders and tensing her knees, sliding her body closer, "What do you think?"

A low sound in Santana's throat told Rachel all she really needed to know. And then Santana's hands were on her hips, urging her pelvis closer, the girl diving in to crash their mouths together.

Allowing the kiss before she realized what was going on, Rachel moaned when Santana's arms moved up to crush their chests together. The music thumped in the background, and Rachel half-heartedly pushed herself back, arm muscles tensing much more than she would have thought had to; "San," she gasped, most of her attention still on the girl straining her body up to meet hers, "The - the dance. I need... I need to finish the..."

But Santana's lips were back on hers, her hands cupping and urging Rachel closer, her mouth tasting of alcohol and heat, and Rachel's head spinning with the intoxicating numbness of alcohol, and she realized, finally giving and dropping her body fully onto Santana's, that the dance didn't matter any more. She had what she wanted. And, _ohh_, she gasped when Santana's hands started kneading her ass, there would be countless times to finish this...

Maybe on _her _birthday?


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N: **Another drunk prompt for miseradreamer; Santana is forced to take care of a very drunk Rachel (and it's pre-relationship). Thanks!

* * *

"I still don't know why _I'm_ the one here," Santana muttered, glaring at the small girl curled around her knees, "_Quinn's _the one who has the hard-on for you. I just find you annoying."

"_Lies_," Rachel giggled, raising one hand up to flop it against Santana's side, her dark eyes wide in the pale yellow of the street lamp, "You're jus' a softie."

Wanting to feel insulted, Santana instead rolled her eyes. "If you drool on me," she warned, poking Rachel's forehead, "I'm gonna go all Lima Heights on you."

Rachel snorted. "Sure. I believe you." Her expression turning into a shining smile, she shuffled herself forward, having to curl her arm around Santana's waist to be able to pull herself up; coming to a stop with her chin on Santana's naked knee, she grinned. "Want to... Want to play Truth or Dare?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Hobbit, that sounds like the _lamest _idea since someone invented the _labradoodle_. 'Sides, what's the point when you're so drunk you're _stupid_?"

Scrunching on her knees and laying her hand on Santana's knee, pushing her head so close their noses almost touched, Rachel frowned through fuzzy eyes. "Maybe," she started, leaning even closer so Santana had to lean backwards, "Because this way you'll... You'll know I'm not..." She hiccupped, "Lying.

"_And_!" she brandished a finger, coming close to poking Santana's eye before Santana reached up to stop it, "I'll be more w-willing to subject myself to whatever dare you give me."

"_Really_." Studying Rachel's cross-eyed gaze, Santana finally allowed a slow, calculating grin to cross her lips. "You'll answer _anything _I ask you?" Shooting a glance over her shoulder just to make sure Quinn or Brittany or Tina or Mercedes hadn't reappeared, Santana nonchalantly wrapped her hand around Rachel's.

Staring at her hand, Rachel slowly nodded. "I... I give you my word as a future star of Broadway."

Santana smirked. "Alright, hobbit," she started, pushing herself up to better lean back against the brick wall, "Truth or dare?"

Chewing on her lower lip, staring into Santana's eyes as best as she could, Rachel finally allowed, "...Truth."

"Ooh." Holding up a finger to signal that she was thinking, Santana finally grinned. "Okay. Berry. Ever gotten yourself off thinkin' about someone who _wasn't _a giant plank of boring, boring wood?"

Blinking slowly, Rachel cocked her head. "You mean," she licked her lips, having to put her hand on Santana's thigh so she kept her balance, "Who wasn't Finn?"

"_Duh_."

"Oh." Rachel cast her eyes down, eyebrows furrowing together. Finally, she shrugged. "Yes."

Waiting, Santana rolled her eyes. "_And_?" she pressed, looking unimpressed, "_Who _was it?"

Rachel shook her head. "You didn't ask that. So. S-Santana. Truth or dare?"

Grumbling, Santana just glared at her. She shrugged. "Dare."

Rachel stared at her blankly, a slow, wide smile growing on her face. "Dare?" she repeated.

"What the hell did you think I said?" Santana snapped, "Deaf, much? Yeah, dare."

"Fine." Pushing herself up even more, uncoiling her body so she knelt between Santana's legs, Rachel whispered, "I dare you to kiss me."


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N: **Another drunken prompt from miseradreamer; after the group successfully manages to keep Santana from attacking Rachel after the Finchel Nationals kiss in New York, Santana jumps her when they're alone and shows her what the "superman" of all kisses is really like. Thanks!

* * *

Still vibrating with rage, Santana stopped short when she realized the only other girl within the hotel bathroom was the one girl she was absolutely _livid _with. "Berry!" she barked, finding some satisfaction in the immediate jumping back and warding off flail of Rachel's arms.

"S-Santana," Rachel's chin trembled as she took a step back, "I understand you're upset with me, but that is no reason to resort to physical violence..."

"_Upset _with you?" Santana purred, stalking forward after turning the lock on the bathroom that Rachel had failed in doing so, "You think I'm just _upset _with you?"

Hands now clutching at the middle of her black dress, Rachel stared at her. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were parted, and Santana took another step forward. She enjoyed the instinctual step backward Rachel answered her with. "Aren't..." Rachel tried, "Aren't you?"

Santana shook her head.

Rachel swallowed. "Then..." she whispered, head jerking back when she realized her back had just run into the full-length mirror, "What... What do you want?"

Breathing in through her nose, Santana took another step forward. "Did you leave the stage wet?" she asked.

"_What_?"

"Finnwad's kiss," Santana growled, coming within touching distance of the other girl, "Did it turn you on?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Santana, this isn't proper. I don't know what you're trying to achieve - "

Almost before she'd registered it herself, Santana had placed both hands on either side of Rachel's shoulders. Looking into the face of the girl she was _convinced _had cost them the Nationals, she recalled her furious expression. "Proper," she hissed, baring her teeth, anger rising again, "_Proper_. _You're_ daring to talk to _me_ about being _proper_? I left the Cheerios for _what? _Sweaty groping from an impotent giant _forcing _himself on a girl too stupid to understand she's ruining not only her whole fucking life _but everyone else's_?

"So." She gritted her teeth, coming close enough that Rachel's heaving breasts pushed against her chest, "Did you leave the stage _aching _for Finn's dick? Because, you know." She narrowed her eyes, "That's the _only fucking reason _I could think you'd have allowed that happening."

Rachel stared at her, suddenly slumping far enough that Santana automatically reached out to catch her. Tears started streaking from her eyes, and her throat trembled as her head fell back into the mirror. "I had to," she whispered. When she opened her eyes, she tried again, "I had to kiss him back. To save the show. He... He moved before I could stop him, okay? I couldn't just _push _him away! Any negative action would have made our ranking even _worse_." Her hands coming up to clutch at Santana's biceps, she shook her head, "I'm so, _so _sorry."

Not having expected that, Santana could only continue holding up the other girl. "You're..." she tried, clearing her throat, "_Sorry_?"

Still crying, Rachel nodded.

"_Fuck you_!" Santana almost screamed, hands coming up to curl around Rachel's own biceps, slamming her back against the mirror.

"San - "

"_No_." Hissing, Santana took that last step forward, one hand moving up to tangle in Rachel's hair. Glaring at her, she moved her hand to continue until she pressed against Rachel's throat, pressing just enough to stop her from fighting; she could feel the smaller girl's pulse pounding against her palm, "You're telling me it _wasn't worth it_?"

More tears spilled down Rachel's cheeks, and her breaths came quick and shallow.

"Well?" Santana demanded, thumb absently beginning to trace the creases of Rachel's neck. Her head drifted closer and closer.

Rachel swallowed. "No," she whispered, "No. To be... To be honest, no."

"Right." Her smirk unamused in the least, Santana slid her hand down Rachel's arm to cup her hip. She lowered her voice. "And what do you feel now?"

Rachel licked her lips. "...You," she whispered.

"Right," Santana whispered back, coming so close that her lips brushed against Rachel's as she spoke, "And am _I _worth it?"

Rachel's arms suddenly came up, hands tentatively grasping the backs of her hips. "Are you?" she breathed.

Instead of answering, Santana captured her mouth, pushing even closer when Rachel instantly arched up into her. It didn't matter what anyone else thought - Santana was _always _worth it. And, Rachel, moaning as her hands slid up to dig into Santana's shoulder blades, mouth warm and inviting, tongue circling around Santana's, didn't seem willing to disagree.


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N**: Another drunken prompt from miseradreamer (yes, she sent me a lot); Rachel is over at Santana's house and Santana leaves her alone in her room for a few minutes for whatever reason. While Santana is gone, Rachel gets nosey and decides to snoop through Santana's drawers. She finds her diary, but decides even she can't invade that level of her privacy, she picks it up to see what's underneath. A photo falls from between the pages and when she picks it up, she realizes it's of hers, asleep on the hotel bed during their Nationals trip to NY. Thanks!

* * *

Santana Lopez had a surprisingly clean room. Having expected something like a bed overflowing with dirty laundry or a desk filled with cast-off paper, Rachel Berry couldn't help but search her bedroom with wide eyes. Fingers itching with the bad habit of being too curious for her own sake, the young ingénue quickly found herself holding what proclaimed to be the diary of the girl who had disappeared into the bathroom to wash off the grunge of that day's Cheerio's practice. Fingers trailing over the soft hide of fake leather, she forced down the urge to actually crack open the tome. No matter how much she may have wished to learn more about the enigmatic girl who had once proclaimed glee as being her most favorite part of the day, she couldn't justify actually breaking her privacy that blatantly.

So, sighing as she went to tuck the journal back into the drawer of her desk, she wasn't prepared for the sudden paper detaching from the bottom of the notebook, floating down to land near her foot. Freezing when she realized it was the sort of paper that meant a photo, Rachel slowly placed the diary back into the drawer, shutting it after a couple of seconds.

Pausing to listen for the sound of Santana returning to her bedroom, she reached down to pluck the photo off the floor. Expecting some sort of Santana pic (or even one of Brittany), Rachel let out an involuntary gasp when she realized it was a picture of her. No, wait, she frowned, studying the pic further, it was specifically a picture of her curled around the body pillow she'd brought to New York with her. The night before the Nationals, if she wasn't mistaken...

Still... A picture of herself?

Gratified to see that she wasn't drooling, or nothing untoward was happening - it seemed to just be a straightforward picture of her sleeping, face pressed into the pillow and barely noticeable - Rachel still didn't know, exactly, what she was supposed to think.

_Why _did Santana have this picture? Did anyone _else_ have one? Starting to feel uncomfortable, the collar of her blouse constricting her throat, Rachel only _just _managed to thrust the picture under the pillow of Santana's bed when the girl suddenly pushed to door open. Still with a sheen of wetness on her skin, a small towel the only thing preventing her from being naked, Santana gave her a lazy glance. "Haven't suffocated from the lack of people listening to you?" she asked dryly, not really waiting for an answer as she made her way towards the closet in the corner of the room.

"Uhm," Rachel cleared her throat, shaking her head violently, "No, I'm quite capable of entertaining myself."

"Oh?" There was a taunting lilt to Santana's voice, and the girl looked over her shoulder to give her a raised eyebrow, "Learned that in necessity when you scared everyone else off?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Think what you want," she sighed, fighting the urge to whip out the picture and demand why the girl had it, "Because I'm pretty sure even _you _couldn't handle me."

"Excuse me?" Stopping with her head barely passing the door of the closet, dark eyes narrowed at her.

Drawing herself up straight, Rachel kept her head and shoulders tall. "I'm just hypothesizing that whatever you think about me, the reality is far beyond what you could ever imagine." Maybe it was the knowledge of the picture, or something else, but Rachel didn't want to back down; she'd never been one to do so, anyway, but this was still a special case.

Santana didn't seem to appreciate the bravado, though. One hand supporting her weight on the side of the doorway, she stared at Rachel with an unreadable look on her face. She cocked her head. "That a fact?" she finally asked, fingers clacking nails against the wood.

Rachel raised her chin. "Yes," she answered assuredly.

Santana narrowed her eyes even more. "I'm figuring..." she began, still clad only in her towel as she stalked over to stare down at Rachel, "You're talking about personality-wise? God knows you're a horror to look at."

Frowning before she could stop it, Rachel shook off the annoyance when she remembered, once again, the existence of the photo. "Whatever you wish to decide I'm talking about," she offered genially, lacing her hands over her knee, sitting farther back on Santana's bed, "Just know you're mistaken."

Meeting Santana's eyes squarely, she knew that no matter what, she had the upper hand. She knew something Santana didn't want her to know. Even if not specific, Rachel had the upper hand. And, Barbra help her, but she was determined to have it benefit her.


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N: **Another drunken drabble prompt from apuzzletotherestofus; Finn notices an interesting bite shaped bruise on Rachel's shoulder, that he didn't leave. This makes her remember what happened the night she drank too much to remember what happened at Casa de la Lopez. Thanks!

* * *

The whole night was a blur.

That was, until Finn made a comment, his hand tracing around a bruise that, apparently, looked like someone's bite mark. Rachel didn't know. Couldn't remember. She'd barely looked at herself since the party at Santana's house, so how was she supposed to pick up on something pretty much impossible for her to see for herself?

Which was probably why Finn's pointed question about the bruise completely pushed her off kilter.

"What?" she asked, pushing him away, blinking up at him cluelessly, "What are you talking about?"

"_This_," Finn insisted, frowning down at her, "What _is _this?"

Trying to crane her head enough to look at the specific thing Finn was looking at, Rachel squinted. It was hard enough to see, and the shadow her shoulder was cast in wasn't helping. But, as she lifted a hand, trying to run her own fingers over whatever it was Finn was glaring at, instant, remembered fire suddenly roared through her body.

Santana.

That was the first word that popped into Rachel's mind.

Santana, and her house. The party. The night she drank too much to remember. Even more than the night she'd hosted her own party. The 'Train Wreck Extravaganza', as she'd heard Mercedes reference it. Yes. Something... _Had _something happened that she couldn't remember?

Her fingers traced the upraised mar on her skin, following the path Finn's fingers had taken. But, unlike his calloused fingertips, her own fingers seemed to achieve more of some sort of memory retrieval.

Alcohol. Music. Being ignored. Pouting. Attention? _More _attention? Dancing. Heat. _Arousal_? _More _heat? _Somebody's lips on hers that _**_weren't _**Finn's?

Trying to separate her embarrassment from her hormones, Rachel sat further back on her bed, separating herself even farther from Finn. If she wanted to remember what _didn't _involve him, she needed to _not _involve him now...

Lips... Soft, _plump _lips. Lips with no hint of stubble. A _sweet _scent? _Shiny _lips?

Rachel's heart started to pound. What was it she was remembering? Was she remembering _someone_?

Having woken up on the couch of Santana's living room, cheek stuck to an unwelcoming leather pillow, Rachel had just assumed she'd crashed earlier that evening, the fallen glee club variously assembled on the floor around the couch only proving her theory. But what she was remembering _now_...

"No, Rache," an unfamiliar voice whispered in her memory, "This isn't right."

"Why not?" Rachel remembered wheedling, hands grasping _someone's _sides, firm and thin.

"Because," the person drew in a deep breath, "You're already _in _a relationship. Cheating might work for _me_, but..." Strong hands cupped her face, those _plump _lips ghosting across her cheek_, _"You're better than that."

Rachel had tilted her head back and forth, making the hands holding her hold her securely. "Am I?" she had whispered, "What makes me better?"

"This," the voice had whispered again, "You're giving me _nothing _but the barest of kisses..."

"But I can give you more!" Rachel insisted, trying to push closer to the body near to her, "If you let me. I'm... _I'm wanting you_."

Warm breath washed over her lips. "_Rachel_," the voice sighed, almost amused, "The problem is that I _never _get the girl."

Rachel shook her head. "But I _told _you. You can have me! _Please_, take me!"

"_No_," the person growled, hands suddenly gripping her shoulders, pushing her around so her cheek and palms were smushed against what was probably a wall. "I'm _not _going to do this when you _can't fucking _**_remember_**_._"

Almost crying, Rachel had tried to push herself back. "Then _make _me remember," she remembered gasping, "Mark me! _Make _me remember wanting you this way."

"Is that what you want?" The person had husked, the _plump_ lips sliding along her neck, "_Really_? You _want_ this? Rachel? You _want _this?"

And, as those lips whispered along her neck, trailing down her neck and along her shoulder, sharp nails biting up and down her sides, absolute _certainty _invaded Rachel's mind. She'd _wanted _those teeth biting into her. She'd _moaned _for the teeth to bite harder and harder, the person's body trapping her against the hard surface and the person's body. If she remembered _correctly_, she'd even dug her _own _nails into the person to _guarantee _the base claiming.

The sweet, shiny, _plump _lips. At Santana's house. The person who never got the girl. Who wanted her. Who still _respected _her.

But _who _was that?

If she thought harder, thought about the body holding her against the wall, she remember dark eyes. Dark hair. The feeling of their teeth biting harder and harder.

The hard body that was still _soft_.

The lips that were still _soft_.

The voice that was still _soft_.

The _emotion _that was still _soft_.

Closing her eyes, Rachel tried again and again to remember who that person had been. The person at Santana's house. The person at Santana's party. The only person who'd paid attention to her. The only person who acknowledged her.

The person who...

Rachel gasped.

_Santana_.

_The only person who made sense_.

And everything clicked.

Santana.

Santana's lips.

Santana's hands.

Santana's voice.

_Santana_.

But... Raising her head to stare at Finn, Rachel drew in a deep, guilty breath. What...

She could barely look at Finn, who was still glaring at her.

What...

What was she supposed to do _now_?


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N: **Drunk-ish drabble for ikalawangboses; Rachel calling Santana in the middle of the night to get her out of jail. Thanks!

* * *

Waking out of a deep sleep, Santana didn't bother noting the number of whoever it was that had called her. "'Llo," she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

"Hello?" an almost too perky voice answered, direct and succinct, "Santana?"

"…"

Santana would have fallen asleep except for a sudden exhalation. "Pick me up from jail?"

"…What?"

"Jail, Santana. Specifically the Lima County jail."

"…" Santana rolled over, onto her back, rubbing a hand over her face. "Who is this?" she barely got out, a large yawn completely taking over her mouth.

The sound of someone sighing in the receiver assaulted her ear. "Santana. This is Rachel."

Rachel. That sounded familiar. Was that the name of the girl who'd been _begging _to get off in her dream she'd just been having? Santana couldn't remember. "Ra-" she yawned again. "Rachel?"

"Yes. Rachel Berry," the too perky voice continued. "I'm in jail, and I was hoping that _you_, Santana, would be interested in bailing me out?"

"Bail…?"

The sound of air against the receiver sounded again. "Santana."

"Mmm?" Santana was already falling back asleep again.

"Santana Lopez?"

"…Mmm?"

"_Wake **up **and **please **bail me out of jail_! ...Please."

* * *

The second Rachel entered her car, Santana glared at her. "Okay. Hobbit. What. The. _Fuck_. Are you _doing_, calling _me _in the middle of the _fucking _night?"

Rachel, managing to look still quite unhurried, settled into the passenger seat, calmly pulling the seatbelt over herself. "Maybe," she offered, still too _fucking _perkily, "Because I know you're the only one who'd actually show up to collect me?"

"Yeah, don't count on that in the future. Ever heard of something called _beauty _sleep?"

Rachel smiled, folding her hands into her lap. "You don't need it."

Opening her mouth, Santana finally frowned, shaking her head. "Okay, no, no," she shoved her car into gear, turning her head back to the windshield, "Let's just get you back to your shire before you go _absolutely _crazy."

Answering with a noncommittal hum, Rachel allowed the next five minutes to pass in absolute silence. However, "You're not going to ask why I was in jail?" finally interrupted the forced stillness.

Santana continued frowning at the windshield. "Nope."

"Oh." Dropping her chin, Rachel smoothed her skirt down over her knees. "I'm just surprised, because I would have thought you'd be all," she raised her hands, making 'bunny ears' in the air, "_Up in my business_."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't do that," she chanced a glare in Rachel's direction.

"Am I not allowed?"

"Do _not _got there."

Sighing, Rachel tucked a free bang behind her ear, looking out the window at the passing lights. "Don't attempt slang, and do not question you, got it. What _is _it I can do?"

Santana lifted her right hand from the steering wheel, pointing at Rachel. "Hey, _you're _the one calling me from jail. At _three thirty _in the morning. I'd say you shouldn't be able to do _anything _but sit there _silently_, thinking up ways how to make this up to me. I mean, _jesus_. _It's three thirty in the morning_!"

There was silence, and then Rachel let out a breath of air. "Would cookies suffice?" she asked quietly.

Santana allowed a smirk to cross her lips. "It's a start," she glanced at Rachel again, eyes glittering, "But I'd say you're also gonna owe me some _solos_..."

"_No_," Rachel gasped, clacking her mouth shut when Santana glared at her again. "...Fine," she managed, crossing her arms, "I imagine that's only fair. Two?"

"Four."

"_Three_?"

Breathing in through her nose, Santana let Rachel sit there in anticipation, before finally nodding. "Okay. Three solos. Cookies. And one _hell _of a reciprocating favor decided _only _by my discretion?"

Rachel muttered something that sounded like _discretion_? but nodded anyway, grumbling. "Only because I understand the position I have put myself in," she offered, giving Santana an unamused look out of the corner of her eye, "But, uhm..."

"_What_?"

"Can we..." Rachel trailed off, finally shifting in her seat enough that she almost completely faced Santana, leg pressed up against the gear shaft, chilled on Santana's hand as she shifted down, "Can we keep this between us?"

Skittering her gaze back from the pale of Rachel's leg to the beginning of Rachel's street, Santana drew her eyebrows together. "C'mon, Berry, this is _choice _gossip."

"No, Santana, please." And Rachel's hand was on hers, soft and warmer than her legs, "Please."

Santana forced herself not to turn her head back in Rachel's direction. "...Fine," she allowed lowly, shrugging unconcernedly, "Can't have anyone think I would have _agreed _to have _anything _to do with you."

"Thank you." There was a hint of a smile in Rachel's voice, heavily laced with gratitude, and when Santana came to a stop in front of her house with a, "Okay, get out," the girl unbuckled her seatbelt, paused for half a second, and let out a small sigh, lunging forward to wrap her arms around Santana's shoulders. "Thank you," she repeated, ignoring Santana's disgruntled grunt, managing to slide a soft kiss along her cheek. Then, pulling back and opening the car door, she jumped out. "Drive safely, Santana."

Trying to ignore the heat of a flush curling around her cheeks and down her neck, Santana grunted, not looking at her.

Rachel laughed softly and shut the door.

Glancing at her rear view mirror as she started to pull away, Santana rolled her eyes when she saw that Rachel was waving, but, without letting herself think too much about it, raised her own hand in a flippant wave of her own. "Those cookies better be damn good," she growled, reaching out to turn the radio on.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: **This is a sequel to chapters 39 and 46, from a prompt from an anon; Rachel should have realized there is _no_ such thing as "harmless flirting" when it comes to Santana Lopez. _Especially_ when trying to beat Santana at her own game. Thanks! It's months old, and it probably sucks compares to the others, but here you go:

* * *

Rachel was beginning to realize there was _no _such thing as 'harmless flirting' when it came to Santana Lopez, _especially _when trying to beat Santana at her own game. Swirling her wine around her glass, laughing at some silly joke Puck had said that really _wasn't _quite funny, Rachel was aware of the dark eyes studying her every second they weren't focused on Puck. Up and down her face and shoulders and chest – wherever Santana could reach, heat followed.

Smiling, tucking a stray bang behind her ear, Rachel flicked her eyes to meet Santana's squarely. Seeing the raised eyebrows and confident smirk, she gave Santana her own version. Still… It didn't seem as if she was gaining any ground. Santana was just… She had too many years of head start, not matter how much it irked Rachel to admit that.

That didn't mean Rachel was _powerless_, however.

"So," she started, taking a bite of her bok choy, "You've mentioned only a _little _of what you've been up to. Care to go into what you're doing in New York?"

Santana's lips curved up. Finishing her own bite of Mongolian Beef, she set her chopsticks down long enough to dab at her lips with her napkin. "A little here, a little there. Mostly magazine spreads with some freelance work and runways."

"Oh? You're a photographer?"

"Hah! As if!" Puck chortled, pushing a forkful of fried rice into his mouth, "Rache, you _have _had your head out of your ass, yeah?"

"_Noah_!" Snapping, pointing at her roommate with her chopsticks, Rachel frowned at him, "You _know _I've been busy with auditioning and… Things."

He smirked. "Things, right. Well." Drawing in a long, suffering breath, moving his eyes over to Santana and transferring his smirk to her, "You want to tell her?"

Tell her _what_?

Rolling her eyes, Santana leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of her hand, elbow resting on the table. "Really," she drawled, "You've been in seclusion?"

Straightening her back, dropping her gaze to her plate, Rachel frowned. "_No_, thank you. I've been busy auditioning for roles. I'm _sorry _if that rates as being a hermit." She shouldn't have been letting Puck and Santana get to her, but it _was _hard, admittedly, to _fully _leave her high school self behind.

"Tsch." Shaking her head, Santana shrugged. "It's not _my _fault," she offered, smirking again, "If I _just _happen to be one of the highest paid models at the moment."

Blinking, then blinking again, Rachel stared at Santana before she realized her mouth was open. "_Wait_," she snapped, hand falling to the table, "_You're _a _model_?"

Puck laughed. "Way to be obvious, Rache." He looked _way _too smug, "So? Any more _interest_?"

_Interest_? Of _course _Rachel's _interest _had spiked. But there was _no way _she was going to say anything. Staring Santana down, Rachel sat back, taking a calm bite of her bok choy again. "I… See," she started, trying to come up with something – _anything _– that wouldn't be the _complete _mess her thoughts were being, "Congratulations…?"

True amusement darkened Santana's eyes, and she dipped her head. "Sure, I'll take that," her smirk widened, "Especially since I'm aware you'll probably google me the _second _you get time to yourself."

Averting her gaze, Rachel pursed her lips. At this point, though she knew Santana was a lesbian, _Puck _had a better chance at starting something with her. Sighing mentally, she took another bite of her bok choy. Flirting with Santana, while a nice thought, was _not _turning out to be as… Easy? …As she'd expected. As if _anything _having to do with Santana was _easy_.

"Well," she forced a smile, "Who wants dessert?"

"Dessert?" Puck gasped, "Oh, man, if it's _your_ – "

Cutting him off, Rachel smiled. "Yes," she smiled, setting her chopsticks down, letting her eyes drift back to Santana, "I prepared some vegan ice cream even _before_…" she raised an eyebrow at Santana, "I knew we were going to have company." Picking up her plate, she stood up as well. Then, taking a deep breath, she turned to Santana. "Santana? Would you like to help me…?"

* * *

"Okay, so, if you could please reach into that cupboard and – " Freezing, Rachel tried to keep her voice level when she realized Santana had stepped close enough to enter her personal space.

"And…?"

"And," Rachel set her plate down into the sink, "Retrieve three bowls? That would be helpful, thank you."

It sounded like Santana clucked her tongue against her upper teeth, but she moved away. "Above the coffee maker, right? Where the plates were?" she asked, and Rachel made a noise of affirmation.

Running water over her plate, Rachel's thoughts raced. Santana… Everything was going _so _out of her planning. Really – was she _so _out of practice?

…Yes, yes she was.

Sighing, Rachel turned around. "Alright, Santana," she started, "Please bring the bowls over here – "

As soon as the bowls were pressed into her hand, another hand was curled around her hip, pushing her back against the sink. "Tell me," Santana's husky voice purred, "I'm not imagining this?"

Rachel's eyes snapped up to meet Santana's. "You're not," she managed, realizing she had to make a snap-second decision – lie or forge ahead. And, oh _god_, she was tired of lying.

"Really?" Santana took another step forward, her other hand moving past Rachel to splay across her lower back, dark eyes staring into hers.

Reaching behind her to drop the bowls into the sink, trying not to react when they clattered, Rachel took a step forward, hands coming up to rest on Santana's shoulders. "Not if you mean it," she smiled, lifting her chin.

"Oh," Santana smiled back, lowering her head, "I think I mean it."

Rachel's heart thumped. "Good," she whispered, "Because seriously? You're _completely _out of my league otherwise."

Santana chuckled. "Shut up," she murmured, lips brushing against Rachel's, "_You're _the one looking _so fucking hot _since you answered the door."

More heat pooled in Rachel's stomach. "You mean that?"

That made Santana smirk. Pulling Rachel closer into her as she took the last step forward to trap her against the kitchen counter, she finally dipped her head to press a searing kiss to Rachel's mouth. "Rachel," she murmured, fingers digging into her hips, forcing their pelvises together, "Shut up and let me seduce you."

Sliding her arms around Santana's neck, Rachel returned her hungry kiss. Okay, she thought mentally, maybe it was okay to give in _sometimes_.


	69. Chapter 69

**A/N: **_Non-_drunk prompt fill. 'Santana didn't know when Rachel fucking Berry had stolen her heart, but when she saw how wrecked Finnocence had left her, she just had to become her Knight in Lima Heights Adjacent Armor' was supplied by an anon. Thanks! Also, technically long enough to be its own story, but it just doesn't hit me as one suited to be. *shrugs*

* * *

Santana didn't know when Rachel fucking Berry had stolen her heart, but when she saw how wrecked Finnocence had left her, she just had to become her Knight in Lima Heights Adjacent Armor. Of course, she'd first had to spend an entire week glaring at the smaller girl, spending as little time with her as she could to see if the feelings would go away. Hell, she'd even gone so far as to hole herself up in her room for the entire weekend, keeping herself running on alcohol and numerous pints of Ben & Jerry's as she ranted and cried and disbelieved on Brittany's shoulder. But, after her best friend shoved Rachel's MySpace videos in front of her, as well as popped in her personalized copy of Rachel's My Headband music video, as well as went off on a wandering verbal journey of Rachel and her impressions of her, Santana knew, without a doubt, there was no fighting it anymore.

So, on Monday morning, after dropping a kiss to a still slumbering Brittany's forehead and admiring her naked body for the last time, Santana went about preparing herself for slipping into her suit of armor. Rachel Berry, she pursed her lips, applying her last coat of lip gloss, get ready to learn about _real _chivalry.

* * *

Rachel looked up from her breakfast smoothie to see Santana Lopez standing confidently in her kitchen. Choking, sending the green liquid splashing over her glass and mouth and nose, Rachel immediately pulled the napkin holder over to herself. "S-Santana!" she spluttered, "What, what are you doing here?"

Dressed in dark washed skinny jeans and a striking red blouse, a formfitting black jacket and black pointed boots, hair swept over one shoulder and dark eyes focused entirely on her, Santana walked towards her. "Thanks, Mr. Berry," she said to the side, slightly moving her chin back while keeping her eyes on Rachel, "I gots it from here."

"Great." Walking back through the kitchen to kiss a now standing Rachel's cheek, Hiram smiled at her, then at Santana, "Rachel, your friend came to drive you to school. _Let_ her."

"But I have ballet – "

Santana shook her head. "Got that covered."

Rachel blinked. Crumpling her napkin in her hand, she stared at Santana. "What?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana turned to her father. She smiled charmingly, walking forward to take his elbow. "It's alright," she started ushering him out, "I gots this too. Have a great day at work doing… Whatever it is you do."

"That's very nice of you, Santana." Hiram smiled at her, letting her push him away, managing a "See you later, sweetie," as he disappeared completely. Once he did, Santana turned back around.

"There," she smiled purposefully, raising an eyebrow, "Nice and alone. Also? Nice sweats." She lowered her voice, pulling out and sliding into the chair next to the one Rachel had been sitting in, raising a hand to point at Rachel's chest, "You missed a spot."

Instantly crossing her arms over the stain on the gray tank top she'd exercised in, Rachel forced herself not to acknowledge the gray sweat shorts she was wearing, either. "I only _missed a spot_," she sniffed, "Because _you _surprised me. Santana. _What_ are you _doing_ here?"

A real smile took over Santana's face. Propping her elbow on the table and her chin on her palm, she motioned for Rachel to retake her seat. "C'mon. Rachel. Let's chat."

"…This is a dream. No. A nightmare." Throwing her hands up, Rachel shook her head and picked up her forgotten smoothie. "So," she addressed the refrigerator as she pulled the door open, reaching for the leftover smoothie she always set aside for a quick afternoon snack, "What has you suddenly deciding to…" She frowned, replenishing her glass, "Traipse right into my house and daily routine?"

Santana sighed, though it didn't sound very annoyed. "Do you have time in your 'daily routine' to talk to me? Or am I gonna have to kidnap you before class? Make me gets my criminal on?"

Hiding her scowl behind her glass, Rachel smoothly spun back around. She glanced at the oven clock. "You have five minutes before I take my shower. Make it good."

Santana smirked loftily. "When are you going to learn I am _always _good?" Taking a breath, she stood up. "Berry."

"Santana."

"Here."

And a small box was shoved into Rachel's free hand. "Santana…?"

The girl gave her an inscrutable look, body loose and unconcerned. Her head was tilted a little to the side, chin raised, and what looked to be the hint of a smile turned the corners of her lips up. She looked smug and expectant at the same time. Still, as she offered calmly, "Open it," Rachel could see the _slightest _tightening of her shoulders.

Rachel looked down at the small gift box. Setting her smoothie down onto the counter behind her, she furrowed her brow. "This is highly irregular," she started, "Seeing as my birthday was months ago, as was Christmas and what would be more appropriate for me, Hanukkah, and I highly doubt you would be giving me an early _Easter _present…" As she was speaking, she gripped the top, and, surprised that it wasn't closed or taped, pulled it off. Her voice trailed off, hands tightening around the box and top. She snapped her eyes up to stare at Santana. "This is a joke."

"Nope." Straightening, Santana strode forward. "Here." She reached forward, easily avoiding Rachel's fingers that tightened even more. Pulling out the white-gold chain and heart charm of the necklace Rachel had rarely seen her without, Santana's other hand settled confidently against her upper arm. "Turn," she tugged Rachel's arm, dark eyes meeting hers determinedly. When Rachel didn't budge, she sighed. "Rachel. Berry. I'm _gonna _put this on you. Unless you _wants _me pressed up close and personal with your chest and face just yet," she paused, eyes lowering to slide along Rachel's chest, smirk growing, "I suggest you turn."

Blinking, Rachel shook her head. "No. _No_." Jerking away, she moved past Santana, taking a couple of steps backwards. Raising her hand, she scowled and dropped the box and top onto the table. Then, she took a deep breath. "Santana," her voice came out clipped, "Explain. You have two minutes."

Santana rolled her eyes. Cupping her necklace in her palm, she shifted her weight onto her back foot and crossed her arms. Regarding Rachel silently for couple of seconds, she finally firmed her lips. "It stops now."

Rachel made a wordless noise at the back of her throat. "What stops now?"

"Everything." Voice low and purposeful, Santana met her gaze squarely. Her jaw tightened.

Almost stomping her foot, Rachel threw her hands up again, "What are you – "

"I'm _putting _you under my _protection_." The words sharp, the staccato easily cutting her off, Santana glared at her.

Rachel flinched as if from a physical blow. Her mouth dropped open. "Wha… _What_?"

"My protection."

"No, no, I _heard _that. I'm asking - - _what_?"

One side of Santana's lips curled up, and her body relaxed enough that she was able to push hair behind her ear. "You know," she bobbed her head, shoulders raising, "Protection. Not like condoms or shit. But, like…" She gave Rachel a pointed look, "Anyone mess with you gets messed by _m_e_._"

Putting her hand up, Rachel shook her head. Her eyes roamed the kitchen aimlessly, mouth opening and closing. "I… This is a joke. Yes." Narrowing her eyes, she turned back to Santana. "This is not funny. You normally want _nothing _to do with me. And _all_ _last week_, even, you did nothing but _glare _at me!"

"Okay, you needs to shut that loud mouth of yours and be listening. To. Me." Closing the distance between them, Santana regarded her intensely. Her voice became a deep purr, eyes flashing, "Alls I'm doing is what should have been done _ages _ago. You?" She moved slowly, sliding the tips of her fingers along Rachel's neck as she let the heart drop, landing against Rachel's sternum. Taking her other hand so her arms circled Rachel's neck, she didn't look away from Rachel's eyes as she managed to open and close the clasp of the necklace, tugging to make sure it was closed.

Rachel shivered, nervously licking her lips. "Me…?"

A shadow crossed Santana's eyes, and she frowned. Letting go of the necklace, she pulled her hands back, fingers trailing once again along her skin. "Fuck," she hissed, taking that last step forward as she curled her hands in the strap of Rachel's tank top, "You just deserve more, okay? God knows you're not as horrible as you used to be – hell, now you're almost _bearable _most of the time; the shit-for-brains excuse of an ex-boyfriend of yours was _never _good enough for you – and he _never _fucking treated you right; the pathetic Lima Losers who are stupid enough to routinely slushie you – which stops _now_, fucking now – are only jealous of you because they _know _you have an actual _future_; and _dammit_, let me protect you because Santana fucking Lopez is _not _okay with people messing with _her _hobbit."


	70. Chapter 70

When Sam dropped a folded piece of paper into her lap, Rachel gave him a curious glare. Unsatisfied with his shrug and half-hearted point to his right at no one specific (as well as unhelpful because Rachel had taken the farthest to the left seat there was, anyway), she sighed and picked up the paper, waiting to open it for when Mr. Schuester turned back to the whiteboard.

_i wanna fuck u so hard u pass out_

_against the piano, skirt pushed up with those ridiculously hot knee socks wrapped around my waist_

"_Samuel Evans_," Rachel hissed.

"It wasn't me!" he protested, holding up his hands, "It just got passed to me."

Frowning, Rachel took out a pen. Scribbling, _Any real thought on this note depends on knowing who you are_, she refolded it and gave it to Sam. "Give this to the person who passed it to you, and tell them to do the same, with the ultimate outcome of it going to whomever it originated from."

Keeping her head stiffly facing the front of the room, eyes squarely on Mr. Schuester's vest, Rachel didn't even look at Sam when he dropped the paper back onto her upturned palm.

_with my hand buried inside of u, u won't care who i am_

Hand? Rachel glared down at the paper again. _I still have no reason to look upon this paper with anything but contempt. This is vulgar and disrespectful. _She ignored Sam's groan when she gave it back to him.

_i'd say ur responses means ur interested_

Letting air out of her mouth in a sigh, Rachel promptly folded the paper, continuing to do so until it wouldn't fold anymore. Then, waiting for Mr. Schuester to pause to answer a question from Puck, she purposefully walked up to the trash can near the door, dropped the paper in, and dramatically spun back around. Nodding at Mr. Schuester, she walked back to her seat. Letting her eyes sweep over everyone, she let herself go over everyone's expressions.

Quinn wasn't looking at her, focused instead on the book she'd pulled out at the beginning of class.

Sam was watching her curiously, head cocked to the side with his eyebrows up, as if he was trying to read in her face what the note had said.

Brittany and Tina were talking quietly to each other, Artie joining in after a beat with something both girls obviously found funny.

Puck was leaning over, whispering something to Lauren, the girl rolling her eyes.

Only Mike, Finn, and Santana were acting in any way suspiciously: Mike, his arms crossed, was focused on Rachel, expression unreadable, while Finn had a frustrated look on his face as his eyes followed her. Santana, eyebrows lowered over her eyes, was shifting in her chair, not looking happy in the least.

Sitting back down, Rachel frowned to herself. Mike was (as far as she knew) happily involved with Tina, so maybe he was just following her movement? And Finn… Well, this didn't seem like something he'd do (or be capable of). But Santana? No. No no no no no no.

Well, that left her with nothing.

…Except Sam tapped her on the shoulder, a new folded up piece of paper in his hand. When she asked, "Really?" he gave her a resigned smile and shrugged.

Rachel's eyes darted around, but no one else was looking at her. "Great…" she sighed, accepting the note, "Thank you."

_nice try_

_u know ur curious about me_

Who _was _this? However, Rachel wasn't going to fall into the trap of replying again. She had already used too much of the class period distracted, and to be honest, this wasn't flattering. It was crude and offensive and she was unwilling to prolong the joke anymore. So, she folded the paper, set it onto the floor next to her, and once again turned her attention to Mr. Schuester.

After five minutes, when Sam tried to give her another note, she refused it.

"You're seriously not going to take it?" Sam whispered.

"Correct."

Sighing, Sam muttered something, but Rachel purposefully tuned him out.

It wasn't a surprise when Sam tried again soon after. "I'm _not _taking it," she repeated, "So stop trying."

"But if you don't she'll – " And Sam cut himself off.

Rachel snapped her head to face him. "_She_?" she hissed, "So you _do _know who it's from?"

"Rachel? Did you hear any of what I just said?" Mr. Schuester's voice rose, and Rachel slowly turned her head to see him frowning at her, eyebrows raised and dry erase marker forgotten in his hand.

She flushed. Chancing a glare at Sam, who had averted his eyes, she smiled apologetically at Mr. Schuester. "Ah, you were just going into further explanation about our new duets assignment. That we cannot use an artist already covered in the past two years, although I personally think to do so would limit the greatness that could be achieved by exploring the as yet untapped – by everyone but myself, I should say – range of Barbra Streisand and – "

"Alright, alright," Mr. Schuester raised his hand, "That's enough. And no. You _can't _use an artist already covered. This'll give everyone a chance to expand their horizons. _Yours _included."

"Ugh, can we _please _get on with this?" Santana called out, "Some of us have things to do after class, you know."

But Rachel wasn't listening anymore. She. Sam had said she. _She_.

Rachel leaned back in her chair. Stopping when she had moved enough to be able to see Santana, she frowned, chewing on her lower lip. It had to be her. Santana. She _had_ been the only girl who had been paying attention, after all. And the language… How had Rachel thought it could have been _anyone _else?

It was ridiculous, but it was the only thing that made sense.

And then, as she settled back into her chair after exchanging a few more words with Mr. Schuester, Santana turned her head. Dark, knowing eyes met Rachel's, and Rachel jerked in surprise, eyes widening and involuntary heat suffusing her cheeks when Santana smirked, winking at her.

…Well. It was obvious Rachel was going to have to have a talk with Santana about personal boundaries and crossing them. She just hoped it wasn't going to be as rough as she was predicting. Rough… And confusing.


	71. Chapter 71

**A/N: **Semi-drunken prompt drabble from brittana03nayamorris14, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

"Santana, why do you always call me dwarf and midget and stuff like that when I'm only a few inches shorter than you?"

"Eh?" Santana looked up from the notes she was copying from the Chemistry book propped in front of her. "What crazy are you bringing up now? No, better yet, why are you talking to me?"

Tapping her fingers on the table, Rachel sighed and pulled out the chair opposite Santana. She sat stiffly, hands linked together on the tabletop. She tried again. "Why are you so invested in continuously pointing out my…" She made a face, "'Lack of height' when you are only, at the most, three inches, if I am correct, taller than me?"

Santana regarded her coolly, then went back to her notes. "Okay, this was a good chat. Let's _not _do it again."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Santana, I am aware that what you are working on is not due until a week from now. Though I understand the want to have things done in a timely manner, I know you _can _give me one minute of your time."

"Go away."

"Not until you tell me what I want to know. I've been told I'm _highly _persuasive."

"I bet it's because people just want you to _shut up_," Santana muttered, the speed of her pencil moving across the paper increasing.

Pursing her lips, Rachel glared at the girl studiously ignoring her, snide comments aside. "Why aren't you answering me? I can't imagine the reason would be so important as to deserve this level of stubbornness."

The space between Santana's eyebrows furrowed, but nothing else of her expression changed.

"Then do you wish an exchange of quid pro quo?"

Santana still ignored her.

Sighing, Rachel leaned her head back enough to look at the ceiling. Then, breathing in deeply to replace the air she'd let out, she snapped back forward, hovering over her still linked hands. "Cookies." Her voice hardened, "Or something of equal value. As much as I dislike stooping so low as to bargain for this knowledge, I shall."

Scritch, scritch. Santana's pencil didn't slow, continuing on its task as Santana looked back and forth between her paper and the Chemistry book. "…Are you just _jonesing _for some insults?" she finally asked.

"I will tolerate them if it leads to you answering my question."

Santana snorted. "Listen, smurf," she set down her pencil, eyes flashing up to meet Rachel's before moving off to close and pick up the Chemistry book, bending down to her backpack to pull out her History book; she pushed it far enough that the top hit Rachel's hands, making her pull back, "Santana fucking Lopez – who is quickly turning into Snix if you care at _all _for your safety – does not have to answer to _anyone_. Especially not _you_." She glared at Rachel, dark eyes direct and burning. When Rachel finally blinked, she smirked triumphantly and turned to her History book.

Fuming, Rachel sat back in her chair. "Why won't you tell me? _What_ is so… _Monumental_ that you _can't_ just, for _once_, answer one of my questions _without_ playing these… _These_ _mind games_?"

Santana drew a new piece of paper out. Quickly writing the date and her name in the upper right corner, she cast Rachel an infuriatingly smug glance.

"What?" Rachel scowled. "What?"

Without answering, Santana raised a flippant hand and waved Rachel away. And, when Rachel tried speaking to her again, she sighed pointedly and reached down into her backpack, pulling out her iPod. Sticking the ear pods into her ears and turning the volume up loud enough that Rachel could _almost_ clearly hear the lyrics of what sounded like… Shakira? Santana essentially put a stop to anything short of Rachel causing a scene and taking the iPod away from her.

Which of course Rachel wasn't going to do.

However, she _wasn't_ powerless. Walking over to retrieve her own backpack from the table she'd been sharing with Kurt and Mercedes before finally deciding the time was right to confront Santana, Rachel retook her seat. Catching sight of annoyance crossing Santana's face, Rachel smiled smugly to herself and continued getting her own History book and notebook situated in front of her. She could wait as long as possible.

It didn't take that long, though.

Ten minutes after Rachel's passive aggression, Santana yanked an ear pod out of her ear. "_Yentl_," she stressed a non-height nickname, "Are you _seriously _steppin' up to me?"

"_Steppin'_...?" Rachel frowned. "Though I may not know _exactly _what that slang means, I _can _assure you I am fully prepared to present to you myself until you give me what I want."

Santana's face suddenly went slack. "Hhh…" she said through her teeth, then violently rolled her eyes. "Alright," she drawled, setting her forearm down onto the table and leaning forward, expression becoming proud and taunting, "Bring it."

Rachel leaned forward as well. "As long as it takes for you to tell me."

Santana's eyes darkened even further, "Fun."


	72. Chapter 72

**A/N: **Semi-drunken prompt from an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

In hindsight, maybe pushing Berry up against the lockers and kissing her 'til they ran out of breath wasn't the _smoothest_ way to show the girl how she felt – but it worked so whatever.

"Sa… Santana…?" Rachel whispered, her doe eyes staring up into Santana's.

"Mmm?" Santana rubbed her nose against Rachel's, lips dipping down to brush from her cheek to jaw.

"Oh." Rachel swallowed, and her hands pushed strongly against Santana's waist, "Uhm, w-wait. Though, though this is nice…" Negating her words, she mmed, head falling back to give Santana the space to kiss along her jaw line.

Santana smirked against her skin. Oh yeah. She could feel the weakness her tongue was doing to Rachel's body. Pulling her hand down so she could curl it around Rachel's waist, she pulled Rachel closer to her even as she pressed her tighter against the locker. "You get it now?" she husked, moving back up to kiss Rachel again, it becoming deep and involved almost immediately.

"Well," Rachel gasped, surging forward to bury her nose into Santana's hair, hugging her tightly, "I think I'd have to be pretty _stupid _not to. Though…" She trailed off.

_Though_? What did Rachel _need_? For Santana to thrust her hand under her skirt and get her off? Kissing her in the middle of the freakin' _hall _wasn't enough?

"Though," Rachel repeated, pulling back enough to smile shyly up at Santana, urging her head down to kiss her again, "Asking for a date would have worked just as well."

"But where's the fun in that?" Santana grinned into Rachel's mouth, "This gots me my hobbit macks!"


	73. Chapter 73

**A/N: **This was inspired by ellowyntinuviel and her responses to my 'fill in the blank' questions on tumblr. Heh.

* * *

They needed to touch. For at least six hours per every twenty four hour cycle, skin had to meet. Hands, knees, shoulders – whatever combination that insured there'd be contact. Originally, they'd broken it up during the day, timing it perfectly, neither willing to admit their handicap. But as it got harder and harder to stay away from each other, they touched whenever they could: between classes and sitting next to each other in the classes they shared, knees and hands brushing along each other, even slipping away during lunch to curl up together in the backseat of one of their cars. Eventually, they started sleeping together, legs and bodies tangled and arms holding each other close.

It was like symbiosis. Mutualism.

Because the reality was without the contact, they'd weaken and tire and grow ill. Grow fainter and fainter until they'd eventually slip into a coma. And if further prevented from contact, the ultimate result would be terminal. Death.

Or at least that's what the scientists hypothesized. But after the first time they'd stayed away from each other had ended with both of them violently convulsing just feet away in their hospital beds, half-falling-half-jumping out to crawl towards each other fifteen hours after they'd arrived, no one had been willing to chance it again – not even for the sake of science.

Which was actually saying a lot because the only thing the scientists knew for certain was that the mysterious dusty substance that had covered Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez after a burning meteorite had slammed into the car Santana had been driving wasn't of anything found on Earth. They did suggest that it had worked as some sort of alien bonding agent, the heat from the fire and the frantic grabbing of each other to get out of the sudden, crumpled wreckage, blood mixing, somehow providing the perfect conditions to change their bodies on the nuclear level.

It had been terrifying and life altering. Overwhelming and devastating.

And as far as they knew, permanent. It's how it was. Due to forces beyond their control, their lives had become entwined.

But as they'd been pushed together, they'd inevitably grown closer. As they did their best to cope with their situation, they'd learned how to get along with each other. And as more time passed after the accident, they'd needed that more and more. After all, they needed each other.

And they needed to touch.


	74. Chapter 74

**A/N: **Very quick prompt for miseradreamer; Rachel discovers a hidden talent of Santana's. Thanks!

* * *

It was in the middle of a rather uninspiring lecture on The Great Gatsby that Rachel Berry, new captain of the New Directions under the direction of the Spanish teacher Mr. Schuester, noticed that Santana Lopez, first lieutenant to the head cheerleader Quinn Fabray, both members of the Unholy Trinity that also included Brittany Pierce, was folding a loose piece of notebook paper into an origami frog. Her pencil slowly stopping from where she had been bouncing it up and down on her knuckle, Rachel lowered her head forward to surreptitiously get a better look at the girl sitting two seats away from her.

Yes. Santana Lopez was folding origami. She finished the frog, sighed, glanced around (Rachel immediately making like she was studying her written words intently), then pulled out another sheet and, with one more suspicious sweep of the room, slowly crafted an origami unicorn. Her forehead eased, her lips smiled, and then she looked up and caught Rachel watching her. An ugly look slammed onto her face, and she violently crumpled her two animals together.

Flinching from her glare, Rachel sat back and told herself she'd probably benefit from _never _mentioning anything of what she'd seen. Probably better, she glanced at Santana's burning dark eyes again, to forget it entirely.

So she did. For three years.

Until the day Santana Lopez, co-head cheerleader with Becky Johnson, walked up to her, now co-captain of the New Directions with Finn Hudson, a bright and shiny gold origami star in her hands. "Here," she pushed the star at Rachel, leaning in, "Just in case you forget who you truly are."

"What?" Rachel asked, staring at the gift, then up at Santana.

Turning, Santana stopped, then turned back to her. She looked Rachel up and down; thoughts moved behind her eyes, and she drew in a breath before shaking her head. "You're more than a boy," she finally offered as she resumed her walk, glancing back to meet Rachel's eyes again, "You'll always be more than anyone else."


	75. Chapter 75

**A/N: **The first sentence was provided by foxchaos. Thanks!

* * *

"Wait, Santana is that a - oh my Barbra get that away from - Santana!"

"Nope," Santana grinned, pushing her hand behind Rachel's shoulder so she couldn't slide past her, "It's not going to hurt you. Come on."

"But, but you _know _my fear." Rachel flattened herself against the wall, shaking her head. "Santana, I'm _not_ appreciating this particular brand of tough love."

Sighing, Santana relaxed her stance. Keeping her right hand behind her, she leaned in. "Hey," she whispered, pressing a kiss into Rachel's cheek, "Do you really think you're not ready for this? Where'd Rachel Barbra Berry, young ingénue _destined _to be with the stars, go? Does Snix have to come out to challenge her?"

Rachel managed a weak glare. "Can't _you _take care of it?" she asked hopefully, "I'm sure you have _much _more experience than I could _learn _in one short week."

"Is that a racial stereotype?" Santana hmmed, then grinned at the exasperated expression that got her. "Okay, okay," she twisted, stopping when her back met the wall and the side of her shoulder brushed against Rachel's, "Babe, think of it this way. We're practically the _only _out gay girl couple in this school, right?"

Rachel dropped her head up and back, then moved her eyes to look at Santana. "Yes…?" she drew out the word, sounding unwilling to put full weight into what Santana was saying.

"And we're like, _smokin' _hot."

That wasn't a question, and Rachel laughed, shuffling herself a little closer to her girlfriend. "I'm happy you think so."

"Like you don't think so." Grinning, Santana craned her head to kiss Rachel soundly.

Melting into the welcoming reality of Santana's lips, Rachel's hand came up to squeeze her shoulder. "Alright," she whispered, kissing Santana once more before pulling away and resuming her original position, "But, what does that have to do with… With what you're holding? Which, by the way, I'm _still _not happy with you for volunteering the both of us without talking to me first."

Santana rolled her eyes, fingers coming up to rub some of Rachel's lip gloss off of her upper lip. "Yeah, like you'd rather me do this with Puckerman? Babe. You're _you_. Your dads are your _dads_. Why in the hell – no, seriously, Rache – why don't you want to be raising a damn _kid_ with me?" Holding up the small raw egg covered in dark felt hair and what looked to be a drawn on Cheerio's uniform and large brown eyes, Santana raised her eyebrows. "Come on. She even has a gold star on her cheek. How can you _not _think she's ours?"

Rachel chewed on her lower lip, frowning as she studied the 'baby', then Santana's intense dark eyes. "San…"

"No, look, we've even already planned play dates with B and Finn's kid, and I'm _sure _she'd love to listen to her mommy sing her to sleep." Smiling encouragingly, Santana took a step forward, holding the egg out to Rachel again, "I figured you and me could argue over her name."

Panic flashed on Rachel's face again. "No, no, I haven't even had a _pet_, Santana. You _know _I'm afraid to take care of anything other than me. _I'm_ enough work. And she's tiny! Fragile! I'll _kill _her."

"No you won't." Lowering her voice, Santana pulled one of Rachel's hands up, pressing their daughter into her cupped palm, then gently closed her fingers around her, "'Cuz I believe in you. And she really needs to have someone who can watch her while I'm doin' my cheer thing." Smiling, she pushed Rachel's growing bangs behind her ear, "Now that I get it's not the gay thing, I _know _you'll be great with her. In _fact_…" Santana swooped in, kissing Rachel and humming into her mouth, "Wanna come over to my house tonight so's we can swap parenting tips, you can make an _insane_ parenting schedule, and we can get to makin' our little one another sibling?"

Stepping away, Rachel stared down at the egg, a slow, unsure smile gradually turning her lips up. "Okay," she breathed, "Okay. But first things first." She looked up, giving Santana a determined look, "We _need_ to get her into something safe and soft. She's ours, and she's _not _going to die."

"Right." Santana smiled, wrapping her arm around Rachel's shoulders and pulling her in close, turning them in the direction of the art wing, "She's ours."


	76. Chapter 76

**A/N: **First sentence provided by an anon. Thanks!

* * *

When Rachel whipped off her shirt to dance with Brittany, Santana's brain short-circuited. Stopping in the middle of a drunken tirade against Mr. Schue and his never-ending vest collection, Santana immediately pushed herself off of Puck's lap, shoving his hands off of her waist. "Hey!" he grunted, grumbling when she flipped him off, "What the hell?"

But Santana had her sights set on someone else. Pushing past Matt and Mike doing some kind of weird drunken hula, Santana circled around to the drink table. Her eyes riveted on the normally vomit-inducing girl matching Brittany move for move in enthusiasm, Santana poured two cups of vodka and Monster, mainly vodka.

"Alright, Berry, you're going to be thirsty…" she hummed, walking across the makeshift dance floor of Puck's basement to coincide with the winding down of the song.

Across from her, Brittany giggled, grabbing Rachel's hands to swing her around. "That's it," she sang out, "You've totally gotten it, Rachel!"

Stumbling a little at the sudden change in direction, Rachel giggled along, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. "I must – I must admit," she managed, "When you first asked me to d-_dance_ with you, I thought you were kidding."

"Why?" Brittany frowned, "That's no fun."

"Because you're _gorgeous_," Rachel beamed, "You – you and Santana n' Q-Quinn are _breathtaking_."

Before she could say any more, Brittany suddenly spotted Santana, and she stopped them, pulling Rachel into her arms as the last note of the pounding bass trailed off. "Santana!" she grinned, "Dance with us!"

"Not right now," Santana responded, flicking her a quick smile before focusing directly on Rachel, an intense smirk taking over her face. "Well well well, Berry loud, look at you. Thirsty?"

Eyes taking a second to focus on Santana's, Rachel perked up. "Santana!" she exclaimed, "That's _sooo _nice of you. I thought you d-didn't _like_ me." Squeezing Brittany, she stepped away, happily accepting the Solo cup Santana handed her. As she did so, she took a deep breath, a bead of sweat sliding down her throat. And when she took a giant swallow of the vodka and Monster, "I don't even know what this is but it looks yummy!", Santana's eyes fell to stare at the swells of breasts cupped in a support camisole that did _not _make her look like a man at all.

"Are you drinking that other one?" Brittany suddenly said into Santana's ear, draping her arms around her shoulders. Pressing her cheek into Santana's, she giggled when Rachel started coughing. "No, no, not like that!" the blonde smoothly plucked the other cup out of Santana's hands, not so subtly pushing her at the smaller girl in distress, "See? Watch." And she downed the drink Santana had mixed in three smooth gulps.

Not surprised in the least, Santana sighed when Rachel slumped against her, taking in huge breaths of air. "You're pathetic," she offered, doing her best to get as much of a feel of Rachel's arms and back and soft silky hair that brushed across her, tugging the smaller girl off the dance floor before Finn and his huge floppy giant feet ran into them.

"Well, well you're _not_," Rachel hiccupped, eyes watering with a disgusted look on her face. "You call that a _drink_?" she asked, shoving the cup at Santana, wrapping her arms around Santana's arm when she took it. "Mmm… Your skin is soft…"

Forcing her facial expression to remain unchanged, Santana pushed Rachel down onto the armchair in the corner. Looking around to see where Brittany had gone and rolling her eyes at seeing her petting Tina's hair while commenting about how nice her hair was for a dead person, Santana drained the rest of Rachel's drink, crumpling the cup and tossing it to the side.

"That was hot."

"What?" That leaving her lips before she could stop it, Santana met Rachel's darkened eyes.

"Mmhm," Rachel nodded, pushing herself up on her elbow and twirling her hair with her other hand, "I… I'm new to this," giggle, "_Drinking _thing, but it's obvious you're _not_. In _fact_." She sighed, stretching back, her back rubbing against the pleather of the chair, and she frowned, finally resuming her thought, "This is my _first time_."

Santana watched the girl try to get comfortable. "How freaking charming," she responded, digging her fingernails into her palm to not reach out and run her hand down Rachel's neck and shoulder and arm. "Did it hurt?"

"Did what…?" The confused look on Rachel's face suddenly morphed into a wide, amused grin. "Ohh, you're talking about _sex_. Sex… I… I'm gonna wait until I'm twenty five, you know."

Santana swallowed. "Because no one in their right mind would want to sleep with you," she smirked, mentally moaning at the expanse of fucking _sexy _leg afforded her as Rachel raised her legs one by one, her criminally short skirt falling down her thighs.

A giant frown settled Rachel's face, her plump lips starting to pout. "Finn wants to sleep with me," she stated, pointing at the large oaf currently making out with Quinn in the corner of the room.

"No, he wants to sleep with _Q_," Santana retorted, finally giving in and nudging Rachel off of one of the arms of the chair so she could sit, holding onto the back with one arm as her legs stretched out to the other arm, over Rachel's lap. Her short dress hitched up her thighs, but she did nothing to fix it when she noticed Rachel staring.

Rachel licked her lips. "Oh."

"Oh?"

And then Rachel's hand was on her thigh, stroking down towards her knee. "Really… So _soft_…"

It had to be the alcohol that made her slip, because Santana suddenly found herself in Rachel's lap, the girl laughing and shifting, one arm coming up to loosely hug her back, the other resting on her hip. Her skin was still sticky with cooling sweat, but it didn't feel bad, and the scent from her shampoo was nice and clean in Santana's nose, her body was warm, and unlike Puck's lap, it wasn't… Uncomfortable.

But. "Yeah, no." Pushing herself up, Santana made to swing off of the smaller girl's lap, but Rachel tightened her hold.

"Please?" Rachel whispered into her upper shoulder, "'M drunk and this seems like a good idea…"

"You're not making any sense, and you're fucking _insane_ to think I'd stay here." Santana responded crossly, glaring at Rachel, shifting and wiggling but Rachel's arms wouldn't budge. "_Fine_," she huffed, crossing her arms, "Though I doubt you'll be able to do it, make this worth my while. You have thirty seconds."

Rachel smiled. "Thank you, Santana. I feel this could… This could be a good _bonding_, uhm, bonding experience for glee… The… What was it? _Gleeks_. And, and, the _cheerleaders_." She lay her forehead onto Santana's shoulder again, digging into the sleeve of her dress. "Hah!" she suddenly laughed, "I'm, I'm half-naked, aren't I?"

"Not making this _worth my_ _while_," Santana warned, separating her attention from Rachel's body and glaring at anyone looking their way. When Brittany gave her a thumbs up, she scowled at her. "At least everyone'll forget this," she muttered to herself.

Rachel was quiet for a couple of seconds; Santana's ears starting to stray back to the music pouring from the entertainment system, she snapped back into focus when the girl whispered, "I won't."

Santana's heart thumped. She turned her head back to meet Rachel's dark gaze. "What was that, RuPaul?"

Sighing, Rachel's eyes fuzzed over, and she looked away. "Nothing. Doesn't matter. This was fun," she whispered with a smile, then clumsily pushed Santana off her lap. Barely waiting for her to center herself and stand without falling over, Rachel used the back of the armchair to catch her own balance. "Bathroom," she explained, dismissing Santana with a smile as she tottered off.

Santana glared after her. "What the hell?"

"_S_," Brittany's arms wrapped around her shoulders, the blonde pressing into her back, "You totally… Totally… _Sucked_."


	77. Chapter 77

**A/N: **Drunken prompt fill for oohweeshawdee; Pezberry finding out who is more flexible in the bedroom. Thanks! It sucks, but ah well. :D

* * *

Santana and Rachel decided to find out which of the two were more flexible in the bedroom one cold winter day. There was frost on the windows and firewood in the fireplace, the light flickering back and forth across dark, olive and tan skin.

"No," Rachel gasped, arching her back as Santana moved above her, "No, this isn't fair."

"I'm sure," Santana grinned, sucking in a deep breath as her fingertips slid along Rachel's stomach, dipping and tracing her abs. "But," she drew in through her teeth, "That wasn't what we'd agreed on, was it?"

"May-maybe not," Rachel sighed, pushing her arms up to circle Santana's shoulders, "But I don't, mmm… Mind taking the time to, _ah_, decide this."

Her lips turning up, Santana pressed a direct kiss to Rachel's lips. "You're too accommodating," she chided, sighing as Rachel's body moved up to meet hers, "We're trying to find out who's more flexible, aren't we?"

"But what's the fun in that?" Rachel pouted, pushing on her heels to tighten her knees around Santana's thighs, "You're not, you're not t-touching me – _ah_."

Bringing her hand up from where it had pressed directly onto Rachel's mound, fingers sliding along her hip and hipbone, Santana smirked as she wiggled her fingers above Rachel's face. "You want this?" she teased.

"Oh – _Santana_." Mmming, Rachel sat up until her lips could slip along Santana's lips, pulling her into a deep kiss, "You know I _always _want you."

"And I'm so lucky for that." Sighing into Rachel, Santana sat up until she could push her hand around Rachel's hip, fingernails digging proprietarily into her girlfriend's skin. "Do you remember high school? When you gave me your picture to hang up in my locker?"

A rosy blush rose on Rachel's cheeks. "You remember that?" she asked, lifting her neck to kiss Santana.

"Of _course _I do." Grinning, Santana's lips slid across Rachel's, "You were so cute. And take _charge_."

"I was, wasn't I?"

Santana chuckled. "You were. But…" Her lips moved to kiss along Rachel's jaw and neck, peppering down towards her chest, "What does this have to do with your _flexibility_?"

"I guess nothing." Smiling, Rachel rolled her hips up, sucking hungrily at Santana's mouth, arms tightening around her shoulders.

"Then I guess I should be distracting you _better_." Hunching down, Santana pushed back onto her knees. "Okay," she hummed, hand moving to cup one of Rachel's shins, fingers mapping out her leg, "Spread for me…"

Sighing, Rachel acquiesced, pushing her legs apart. When Santana drew up towards her center, she mewed, throwing her head back. "Oh _god_," she offered tightly, voice building as strong fingers wrapped around her thighs, spreading her even further.

"_Yes_," Santana sighed, voice trembling a little as she looked down at what Rachel gave her, "_You_."

"_San_…" Whining a little, Rachel huffed when Santana did nothing but look at her, face reddening. Pushing up, forcing Santana back, she grinned at the girl's dark look. "Lookie," she hummed, brushing her lips down Santana's jaw and along her neck, "It's _your _turn since you're doing _nothing_…"

"Nothing," Santana whispered, smiling up at Rachel, "Because maybe we _both_ win…?"


	78. Chapter 78

**A/N: **Drunken drabble prompt from an anon, who supplied, 'When Rachel asked her for a favor, Santana was not expecting that.' Thanks!

* * *

When Rachel asked her for a favor, Santana was definitely not expecting that. "You... Want to learn how to _seduce_ someone?" she asked.

Through eyelashes thick and coquettish, Rachel nodded. "Please?" she asked, sliding along the chair, knees pushing against Santana's, "I don't know who else to go to."

"Well, of _course_." Crossing her knees, making pressure against Rachel's legs, Santana raised an eyebrow. "Who else would be willing to take time out of her day to do something so _obviously_ ridiculous?"

"So you're saying that you're easy?"

Santana gave Rachel an unamused look. "Really?" she started, "_Really_? You come to me and then you discount anything I say?"

"Fine." Nodding, Rachel laced her hands in front of her, tilting her head, "I'll take anything you say at face value. Okay?"

Santana narrowed her eyes. "...You're not cute," she commented.

Her lips pursing, Rachel sighed. "Fine," she repeated, widening her eyes and putting a silly smile on her face, "Is this better?"

Scoffing, Santana settled her chin onto her palm. "Only _you _would think that was better. Alright. Whatever. You want a first lesson?"

Breathing in deeply, Rachel leaned forward, "Please."

Santana's eyes turned down, sliding along the bow of Rachel's shirt. "Okay." She cleared her throat. "First lesson. _Dress the fuck as your age_."

Rachel frowned. "That's not very helpful..."

"But it's _true_."

Making a face, Rachel looked down. "Okay," she clipped, her voice sounding strained, "Next lesson?"

Santana tilted her head even more. "Why am I helping you again?"

"Because I'm cute?" Batting her eyes, Rachel sat forward, "And I'm going somewhere? That I'll be valuable somewhere down the way?"

Santana leaned in towards her. "Are you so sure of that?" she asked, looking down towards Rachel's lips, "Because, you know..."

"Yes...?"

"Maybe I could make use of you right _now_..."


	79. Chapter 79

**A/N: **The first sentence was provided by itsacurse. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel knew Santana was Brittany's, but she couldn't help but dream. The girl was fierce, ambitious, bright, and undeniably attractive. She was driven and headed somewhere, and every time Rachel looked at her, her stomach twisted into knots. Ever since – no, _before _their amazing rendition of _So Emotional_, Rachel had realized her feelings for the girl who had helped make her high school life miserable for three years had been changing.

She'd never buttonholed her sexuality, been prepared for whatever route her rising hormones and awareness led her. When it had been Finn and Puck and Jesse at first, things had been easy. But when the shine of bad boy-ness and Mr. Popularity began to wear off, when her life became _more _than the boys she hung her whole life on, things began coming into sharper focus. Quinn's laugh. Brittany's legs. Tina's smiles, and Mercedes' eyes. The line of Santana's waist. Even the way Miss Pillsbury's hair framed her face.

Sick of being so depressed with Finn's disregard, Rachel threw herself into paying more attention to what she'd ignored. Quinn really _did _have a nice laugh, and Brittany's legs _were_ sleek and powerful and attractive. Tina's smiles _had_ the cutest dimple, and Mercedes' eyes _did_ turn the prettiest shade of brown when she was excited about something. Miss Pillsbury's red hair _was_ striking and unique. And _Santana_...

Santana. She had always been resplendent in her cheerleader's uniform, but when she'd quit and started showing up to school in casual clothing, Rachel's eyes had been drawn to her. It started as grudging appreciation for her physical appearance. No matter her arrogant treatment of Rachel, Santana _was _gorgeous. And it was obvious she knew it.

But with the continued surveillance, as she began to accept her attraction and physical reaction Santana gave her, Rachel began to realize that there was more to the girl than just being a bitch. She'd tried to hide it, but it was obvious to anyone that took the time to look that her problems with Brittany had been tearing her up. That she was upset and depressed and lonely.

And though Rachel hadn't spoken up, she'd commiserated with Santana. She knew those feelings all too well. Ultimately, she'd found herself using Santana's life to distract her from her own.

Perhaps it was inevitable that Rachel fell for her, then.

If she had been braver, maybe she could have done something about it. Maybe she could have become friends with Santana a _long _time ago, not just _now_. Not just _now_ when she was completely entrenched with and in love with Brittany. Not now when her whole _life_ was Brittany.

...Not now when Rachel had next to little chance of anything beginning.

But she couldn't help wondering. What if Rachel had helped her through her troubles junior year? Would Santana have helped _her_ back? Would they have grown closer? Would Brittany have stayed with Artie and Finn have stayed with Quinn and Santana and Rachel have embarked on a journey of their own?

But questions were pointless. Fact was, how would Rachel ever know what might have happened? How? By trying it out now? By seducing Santana, putting herself out there by suggesting an illicit affair?

Bowing her head, Rachel brought her left hand up to her eyes, studying the ring she'd memorized months ago. No. She couldn't do that. Not to Finn. Not to herself. Not to _Brittany_.

Because...

Why try to take Brittany's happiness away from her when Rachel was about to start her new life of happiness with a boy who loved her? She couldn't do that. For once, her personal selfishness wasn't worth throwing away the lives of others.

Santana was happy. And if she was happy, Rachel could try to be, too.


	80. Chapter 80

**A/N: **Drunken drabble; an anon provided, 'Santana has to share Rachel with Brittany, which works out fine. Thing is Santana doesn't want to share Rachel with anyone.' Thanks!

* * *

Santana has to share Rachel with Brittany, which works out fine. Thing is, Santana doesn't want to share Rachel with anyone. She feels stupid because she's the one who told Brittany it was okay, that she wouldn't mind sharing Rachel.

She knew Brittany would take her words at face value, because that's how the blonde was. Though she'd been hoping Rachel would turn Brittany down, she'd been wrong in her prediction that Rachel would understand that her okay wouldn't _really _be an okay. Sure, she'd been the one to introduce Rachel to sex, to getting off and the pleasure of a lady lovin' existence, but she'd been naive to think Rachel understood that that it was meant as _exclusiveness_.

But of course Rachel wouldn't understand. _Santana'd_ been the one who'd convinced her that sex was good, was _fun_, was something to be _shared_.

Sure, Santana's hand knuckle deep inside Rachel wasn't anything to be _kept secret_, huh? Wasn't anything _exclusive_.

Having to listen to Brittany finding the spots that made Rachel gasp and shudder, buck against her, strain against her, come _completely undone _against her... Rachel's taste, tart and salty and sweet and _Rachel_... Santana's hadn't meant it for Brittany to experience! She'd been hoping that some clumsy groping – oh, who was she kidding? Brittany was never _clumsy_ – would be enough. But no. Rachel needed, _wanted _more.

And for once, Santana wasn't enough.

No matter how much she worshipped Rachel's body. No matter how much she gave of herself. No matter how much she _promised_.

It stung and it hurt and it stretched her face because how could she keep _lying_, keep telling Rachel she was _fine_, that it didn't _hurt_?

Sure, go ahead and fall into Brittany's arms. That's what good friends were for, wasn't it? She'd _always _shared with Brittany. So why should this be any different?

But no. Her face tight and stuck in a wild smile, Santana sat in the chair pushed close to Rachel's bed. Watching Rachel's face change from excited to lusty, watching Brittany's pale and freckled body move over Rachel's, move _in _Rachel's body, Santana can only watch because she'd _condoned _this. She'd _forced _this to happen. She's said it was okay.

_No_, Rachel didn't mean any more than an occasional fuck.

_No_, Rachel wasn't more than a voice gasping Santana's name.

_No_, Rachel wasn't more than a tight, choking tunnel around Santana's fingers and tongue and _being_.

No, Rachel was just a fuck-buddy.

_Santana _was just a fuck-buddy.

It was little more than a month and they'd be gone from each other's lives.

Rachel wouldn't have Santana inside her anymore. She wouldn't have _Brittany _inside her. Who would she have? _Herself_? Sure. Have whatever she wanted because it wouldn't _last_.

When Rachel's lips parted, gasping Brittany's name, back arching and her body taught and full of energy, Santana watched. Rachel's body glowing with sweat and exertion, Brittany matching her perfectly, Santana continued watching.

Second best, she figured. Barely a concession prize. Because did Rachel make _those _faces when _Santana _touched her? Did she gasp _that _note when Santana filled her?

No. She didn't.

Tears pricking at her eyes when she allowed herself to feel what she couldn't show, Santana watched her best friend touch Rachel in ways she couldn't manage.

Why couldn't she touch Rachel like that? She wasn't enough? She didn't _excite_ Rachel enough? Why?

So Santana watched. She'd caused this to happen, so she'd lie in the bed she'd made.

So, a month. A month to play catch up. Fine. Biting her lip as Rachel crested, stomach rippling as she sucked Brittany's fingers deeper and deeper, Santana smiled when Brittany turned her head to beam at her. Fine, she repeated, slinking onto the bed as her tongue darted out to taste what Brittany had drawn forth, fingernails digging into Rachel's legs, anchoring her, fine.

About a month. Ignoring her tears as the aftershocks rocked through Rachel's body, Rachel arching against her and gasping and so, so fucking _satisfied_, Santana pretended that it was just her and Rachel.

Just her and Rachel and the pleasure she could give her. Just her and Rachel and the month left to spend together...

Just her and Rachel.

Just _her_.


	81. Chapter 81

**A/N: **DD for an anon, who provided, "I'm sorry, Santana, but I just do not find that outfit appropriate for a Barbra Streisand movie marathon. You're going to have to change." Thanks!

* * *

"I'm sorry Santana, but I just do not find that outfit appropriate for a Barbra Streisand movie marathon. You're going to have to change."

Santana stared at Rachel. "What?" she started, incredulous, "_What_?"

"I believe you heard me correctly." Smoothing down the faux-sailor uniform she was wearing, Rachel lifted her chin. "If you look at what I am wearing, you should see that I am not wearing anything that could be construed as 'daring' or, I'm sorry, but this is the truth, '_slutty_'."

Santana clicked her jaw shut, eyebrow arching imperiously. "So..." she started, voice low and direct, "That just because I dress '_confidently_' and, I don't know, '_like I know what my body looks like_,' I can't be part of your _pathetic _glee get-together?"

Her brow furrowing, Rachel glanced behind her. "...Yes," she finally allowed, turning her full attention to Santana.

Santana's lips firmed. "...I can't believe this," she scoffed, hands coming up to prop on her hips, "This is _fashionism_."

"I'm sorry you see it that way," Rachel responded primly, clasping her hands together in front of her, "But I am _sure _Barbra would agree with me."

"Uh, yeah, because she's _insane_." Scowling, Santana sat back on her heels, crossing her arms. She stared at Rachel. "Okay, spill. What is this _really _about?"

Rachel looked startled, eyes widening. "What do you mean?" she asked quickly.

"I thought it was pretty self explanatory." Bobbing her head, Santana watched Rachel take another quick glance behind her. Her expression opened. "What?" she asked, pressing forward, "Who's here? What? You snuck some _boys _into your house?"

Instantly moving to block her, Rachel breathed in deeply. "Don't be silly," she shook her head, smiling placatingly, "This was a strictly female night."

"_Was_?" Narrowing her eyes, Santana tried to press forward again, Rachel's hands coming up to brace on either side of the door frame, the girl planting her feet, leaning back as Santana approached. "Okay, now I _have _to get inside."

Doing a rather good job of being an obstacle for Santana to get past, Rachel glared at her, moving and twisting as Santana tried to duck under her arm. "Please stop," she entreated, "Or I shall be forced to take drastic measures."

"Oh _please_." Rolling her eyes, Santana finally gave up trying to be stealthy. Slapping her hands to either sides of Rachel's waist, making the girl squeak, she pushed her back, "Like I'm scared of some hobbit voodoo – "

"Rache?" a older male's voice interrupted, Rachel freezing between Santana's hands, a stricken expression making her face go white, "Did someone finally arrive?"

Closing her eyes, Rachel drew in a deep breath. Her sides inflating with air, she craned her head around, now less of a wall in front of Santana and more of a defeated blockade, "Yes, Dad," her eyes flicked to meet Santana's, dark and sorrowful, "But I'm afraid she's not staying."

"Berry?" Santana frowned, only pulling back her hands when an obviously Jewish older man with glasses came into view.

The man frowned as well. "That's no good." Meeting Santana's eyes, he straightened, easily pushing his daughter out of the way. "Good evening," he smiled, offering her his hand, "It's nice to meet another of Rachel's friends! Now, don't tell me." He looked her up and down, "Ms. Lopez?"

"Santana," Santana nodded, quickly taking his hand and shaking it. Seeing Rachel's still stricken expression, Santana smoothly put herself between her and her father, easily pushing herself inside the Berry household. "I'm _afraid_," she shot Rachel a glare, "Your daughter misunderstood me. I said I _almost_ wasn't able to stay."

Rachel's father's face lit up. "Splendid!" he smiled broadly, then stepped back, sweeping his arm out in an ushering motion, "Please, come in. We've set up the home theatre to get the _maximum _effect. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Now. Come. Rachel, dear." He turned, starting down the hall, looking over his shoulder, "Please show Miss Santana to the basement while I get her a refreshment? Lemon and elderberry infused water okay?"

"That's fine," Santana smiled, watching him walk down the hall. As soon as he had turned the corner, she whirled to face Rachel, staring intently at her. "_Talk_."

Rachel's hand was now on the inner doorknob. "Please," she practically begged, "Please, can you just go home now? Say something came up? Or just leave and I can make an excuse for you?"

"_No_." Raising her hand, cutting Rachel off, Santana glared at her. "I'm the only one here, aren't I?"

Rachel's shoulders dropped. "Yes."

"And… I'm the only one _coming_?"

Shoulders slumping even more, Rachel nodded. "When... When I got everyone else's canceling messages I just assumed you weren't coming either. I was just about to let my fathers know."

Santana shook her head incredulously. "So all that bullshit about my clothing was a _pathetic _attempt to do damage control? Not want to be alone with me?"

"Can you blame me?" Rachel shot her a dirty look but sighed. "Are you leaving?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana spun on her heel. "Are you kidding?" she threw over her shoulder, making her way towards the basement she'd been in once before, "Berry. Just shut up and close the door already."

"Wait – you're _staying_?"

"It's either you or being Puck's wingman, and that's just degrading and _ridiculous_ and I _know _I'd lose brain cells just as fast as the stupid bitches lose clothing." Pausing at the top of the stairs, Santana pointed at Rachel, "You are _not _going to sing along, got it?"

Shutting the front door, Rachel hurried to catch up to her. "Do you know who I _am_?" she gasped.

"Oh god… Unfortunately I do." Making sure Rachel couldn't see her smile, Santana continued, "Maybe I should leave after all…"

"Oh no, Santana. You're here now, so you're staying. Now, come on. If we start now, we can fit in Yentl before dinner. Do you like eggplant lasagna? I mean, of course I'll be having something else as that isn't vegan, but I'm sure I can always tell Daddy to make something else. Oh, like pizza? Would that be a better choice for a movie marathon? That isn't very healthy though… And healthy food is important. I'm sure you agree with me. You _do _agree with me, don't you? Oh, how _exciting _this is! Barbra really is a timeless icon, you know. I'm sure you'll just _love _her! _And_…"


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N: **A DD for an anon; Rachel didn't know if she could do it. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel didn't know if she could do it. This was completely more than she had ever anticipated, and she wasn't sure she was equipped to deal with everything. She liked to think she was prepared for whatever situation happened within her life, but the reality was that she was still just a seventeen year old girl, discovering what life was really like with each moment that happened.

Santana, in contrast, had had the world eating out of the palm of her hand since she was fourteen years old, working and using everything in her favor. She knew how to play people, using all what nature and puberty had given her (and then not-so-much puberty but a doctor's hand). She had _years _of experience.

Rachel had _months_. But she was determined to at least _try_.

"Santana!" she announced, slamming the locker room door open. Ignoring the taunting titters of the Cheerios and the barbed comment from Sue as she blew past, Rachel planted her hands on her hips.

Pausing from where she had been pulling her Cheerio top over her head, her arms caught in it, Santana turned away from her locker. "Man Hands," she greeted flatly, obviously not bothered by the fact that she was standing in front of Rachel in her almost-off top and sports bra and panties, "Why the _hell _are you here?"

Rachel crossed her arms. "If you would be willing to meet me out by the bleachers in ten minutes, I'd be glad to answer your question." Raising her chin, she hoped that the residual nervousness she couldn't help but feel didn't show through. For Santana – to meet her in her own world – she needed to be confident and arrogant. For _her _world of the Cheerios and social hierarchy; a far cry from Rachel's forced loser-dom.

Walking up in only a towel and water droplets, Brittany stopped, turning from where she had been reaching for her own locker next to Santana's. "Rachel?" she asked, confused, cocking her head, "Are you a cheerleader now? Because that would be hot."

Allowing a smile to cross her face, Rachel shook her head. "No, Brittany," she corrected, averting her eyes from the fabric slipping down Brittany's body, "I'm here for Santana."

"Oh!" Eyes widening, mouth splitting into a wide smile, Brittany looked back and forth from Rachel and Santana, "Is she dating you now?"

"Don't be fucking ridiculous, B," Santana rolled her eyes, finishing pulling her top over her head, "As if I'd let _that _train wreck _anywhere _near me."

Not letting her disappointment cross her face, Rachel gave Santana a pointed stare. "Ten minutes. The bleachers." Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the locker room after one last smile at Brittany.

* * *

Just as soon as Rachel had resigned herself to the reality that Santana wasn't coming, the girl in question appeared.

"Okay," Santana snapped, hands pushed into the pockets of her Cheerio's pullover, "I'm only here because Britts made me. What the hell do you want?"

Pushing off from the banister she'd been half-leaning, half-sitting against, Rachel drew in a deep breath. "Thank you for coming, Santana."

"Pshh. Start flappin' those lips in explanation, or I'm _gone_."

"Do you have five minutes?"

Studying her suspiciously, Santana finally rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she threw out, "That's not long enough to waste my life with. What. Is. It?"

Taking a step forward, Rachel came within three inches of Santana. "Santana," she started, raising her head and meeting Santana's eyes squarely, "Are you..." She paused, then drew herself straight. "No, sorry. Disregard that. You're _single_, correct?"

Santana's eyes narrowed. "And if I was?"

Rachel took another step forward.

Without moving backwards, it was obvious Santana was studying her intently, head moved back enough to keep an eye on her. Her shoulders were high as her arms didn't relax.

This was the moment of no return. "Santana," Rachel said softly, hand coming up to press into Santana's arm, catching the slight tightening of the lines around Santana's eyes, "Do you like me? At all?"

"Really, Berry? You don't need me to answer that. So I'm not."

Even if she didn't, Rachel was impressed. Her determined expression softened, and her thumb absently rubbed Santana's elbow. "Santana," she whispered again, watching as Santana's eyelashes subtly fluttered, a feeling of _energy _moving through her arm at Rachel's touch; it would be lying if Rachel said that didn't give her hope. "If, say, someone you've known ever since middle school were to confess to you..."

Santana's eyes shuttered. Her jaw tightened. "Continue."

That wasn't a no. "Someone who you would normally pass by?"

"_Berry_." Santana's voice was direct. "Stop being so damn _vague_. You got something to say, _say it_."

"_Fine_." Drawing herself up straight, Rachel took the last step forward. "Santana," she frowned, drawing herself up as tall as she could, "_I like you_."

Santana's expression didn't change.

Rachel could feel the crease between her eyebrows deepen. "Santana."

"You know, I'm still waiting for your _point_."

Rachel's teeth cut into her bottom lip. "_Fine_," she stressed, taking a step back to stare accusingly at the taller girl, "Will you go out with me?"

Santana's eyebrows quirked up. "What's in it for me?"

Rachel glared at her. "Do you _really_ wish me to list all my positives?"

An easy smirk curled Santana's lips up. "Try me," she lilted, then, thinking better of it, she leaned in, so close it made Rachel instinctively lean back, "Breadstix. Eight. Do _not _be late." Raising her hand, pointing at Rachel, she turned on her heel, finishing over her shoulder, "You're insane, but you're cute. Just know you've got your work cut out for you."

Rachel's heart thumped. "I wouldn't think otherwise," she raised her voice, nodding, a surprised blush glowing on her cheeks.

Pausing, Santana studied her up and down. Rotating back, her eyes shuttered again, and she moved into Rachel's space. "Just," she started, and, waiting for her to finish, Rachel froze with insistent lips suddenly pushed against hers. Eventually, as she relaxed, her hands coming up to rest on Santana's shoulders, Santana stepped back.

"Good," Santana husked, taking another step back, "You've already gotten something in your favor. Just know I'm _not _easy."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Rachel called back, licking her lips, a silly grin taking over her face as her heart thumped in her chest, "Santana Lopez, be prepared to be _wooed_."


	83. Chapter 83

**A/N: **DD where lovecanbesotrange provided the first paragraph; thanks! Went in a bit of a different direction than expected, but still fun. :D

* * *

Quinn wanted some alone time where nobody she'd know would ever find her, so she decided it was best to make an appointment for a relaxing spa afternoon one town over. But when a weird feeling followed her in when she thought she saw Berry's car outside, it got even worse when she spotted a Cheerios duffel atop the lockers in the changing room.

That couldn't be right, she thought, shaking off the suspicious thoughts. This was _her _spot, _her _secret hideaway. No amount of random coincidence would make her think she was going to walk into something she didn't want to.

That determination, however, didn't last when she walked in on a naked Rachel Berry straddling a naked Santana Lopez in the hot spring. "What the _hell_?" she barked, it leaving her lips before she could stop it, "_What_?"

Jerking away, stiff and startled, Rachel splashed into the water next to Santana, Santana's dark eyes snapping to meet Quinn's. "Q!" she gaped, wrapping Rachel into her arms, "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"_Me_?" Quinn squeaked, voice rising into an octave she had never heard come from her vocal chords, "What about _you_? And – and with _Berry_, no less!"

Turning her head, Rachel pressed into Santana's side. "Quinn," she managed, eyes widening, turning but still keeping her side connected to Santana's, Santana's arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders, "It's a surprise to see you here."

"I bet..." Quinn drawled, finally realizing she was standing naked outside the pool. Blanching, she walked into the pool, ducking her head under the water to get herself completely acclimated to the heat. Slicking her hair back, she surfaced, staring at the two girls at the other end.

An amusing shade of red helped by the heat of the pool, Rachel was practically sitting on Santana's lap, Santana staring at Quinn with a frown on her face. "Are you done?" she asked, waiting until Quinn was safely seated on the deepest step on the other side of the pool that allowed her mouth above the water.

"Only if you're willing to explain," Quinn shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at Santana, "I mean, this? What. The. _Hell_? How _long_?"

It was Rachel who answered. "Uhm," she cleared her throat, sitting forward on Santana's lap, the water lapping at her shoulders, "You remember Sectionals, sophomore year?"

Quinn's jaw dropped. "That _long_?" she gasped, eyes widening, "_What_?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to continue being the stereotypical blonde, Q, I suggest you close those lips of yours and _keep your mouth shut_."

Growling, Quinn dipped her head. "Fine," she allowed, drawing the words out, "_Enlighten_ me." Letting the water lap at her chin, she waited.

It was Rachel who took the lead. "Well," she started, suddenly seeming more confident, "After we performed, Santana cornered me to demand an explanation for my easy belief in her innocence at her _not _being the mole." Her lips curved up, and as Quinn watched her face glow with happiness, Santana's arms coming up to wrap around her waist and shoulders, pulling her back into her embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek, Rachel settled back against Santana, somehow, in _some way _seeming like she _belonged _there, "And I answered honestly: I had never heard her be more serious in her life. I had _no _reason to disbelieve her."

"And it went from there." Resting her chin on Rachel's shoulders, Santana gave Quinn a severe look. "Are you going to cause problems...?"

"Like _what_?" Quinn scoffed, sitting back, propping her elbows on the pool rim, "And give away my hideaway?"

Rachel's forehead eased. "Thank you," she answered earnestly, glancing at Santana before moving forward, disentangling herself. Gliding through the water before she sat next to Quinn, Rachel's face opened. "Do you think, if we ignore each other, we can continue on with our individual plans?"

Quinn stared at her. "That's not _fair_," she protested, glaring at Santana and moving back to Rachel, "What do I get out of it?"

"Scenery?" Santana asked with a hint of humor, swimming over to the other side of Quinn. Tilting her head, she exchanged a grin with Rachel. "We be two hot mamas – you _can't _tell me you's not be intrigued."

"Oh _please_." Rolling her eyes, Quinn gave the two other girls a pointed glare. "How about this – we ignore the other and pretend like this conversation never happened? I'd prefer to forget entirely what I saw, and I'm _sure _you two have no plans that involve _me_." Turning, pushing herself out of the mineral pool, Quinn shook herself, having to smirk at the impressed stares coming from Rachel and Santana, "Anyway, I'm off to the _full _program. If I see you again, whatever. If I don't – have a great summer and do _not, _I repeat, do _not _look for me while here. Lima? A different thing altogether. I'm game to hang out there. But _not _here. Got it?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded, blinking, eyes unabashedly roaming Quinn's body, glazing a little, "Sure."

"Mmhm," Rachel echoed, biting her lower lip. "Uhm, Quinn?" she asked, a pitch higher than her normal voice.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"You have any interest in hanging out this weekend?"

Looking at Santana, Quinn smirked when the girl nodded eagerly. "Why not?" she answered, shaking her hair out, rotating on her heel, grinning to herself as she imagined the two girls watching her walk off, "You have my number."


	84. Chapter 84

**A/N: **This and the next two drabbles are from a writing exercise I did with miseradreamer, where we randomly picked a song, and, while listening to it on repeat for thirty minutes, wrote a short story. This one was written while listening to _On Your Side _by _A Rocket to the Moon_.

* * *

Face starting to hurt from laughing, Rachel sat back, waving her hand holding her Smirnoff Ice in the air. "Not fair," she shook her head, erupting in giggles when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into Santana's secure embrace.

"Ho, yeah it's fair," Santana whispered in her ear, grinning, her hair brushing along Rachel's cheek, "Puck brought the booze. He gets to make an ass out of himself if he wants to."

"Nice," Puck made a face at Santana, then smoothed a hand over his mohawk. "Dude, when are the others coming?" Squinting through the darkness made harder by the flickering of the bonfire in front of Rachel, he frowned. "Ah, fuck this. I'm gonna go back to the parking lot and see if they're here yet."

Watching him walk off, Rachel called out, "Don't trip! You'll get more sand in places they, hah! shouldn't get."

"Fuck you!" Puck's voice responded, the boy disappearing into the night.

"He wishes," Santana grinned, kissing Rachel's cheek, "But _I's _the only who gets to do that, right?"

Snuggling back into the girlfriend's arms, Rachel smiled widely. "Right, hun." Staring into the deep orange and yellows of the fire crackling in front of her, she tilted her head back. "You warm enough?" As she waited for an answer, she laced her free hand with one of Santana's, pressing it firmly against her stomach; her legs and front were thoroughly warmed from the fire, her back thoroughly warmed from Santana, but she could also feel the cool wind nipping at the edges of her body.

Santana hummed. "I'm perfect," she answered, squeezing her knees into Rachel's thighs. "Hey, can I get a sip of that?"

"This?" Finishing a pull of her Smirnoff, Rachel twisted, holding the bottle up, "Here you go – "

But instead of taking the bottle, Santana swooped in, stealing her lips in a deep, forceful kiss. Immediately opening her mouth, Rachel pushed against the strain of her twisted side. Drinking in the taste of her girlfriend, feeling pleased and loved and absolutely content, Rachel made a happy sound as they separated. "What was that?" she whispered, smiling affectionately, enjoying the firelight reflected in Santana's dark eyes.

Santana shrugged, smiling impishly. "I wanted a sip of you." Urging Rachel back around, pushed her back more firmly against the piece of driftwood she was using to support herself, pulling Rachel back more firmly against her as well. "Mmm…" she sighed, completely surrounding Rachel, "No, I was wrong before."

"About what?" Allowing herself to melt into Santana, Rachel let her eyes close.

Santana's husky voice reverberated through her chest. "I'm perfect _now_."


	85. Chapter 85

**A/N: **This one was written while listening to _Kryptonite _by _3 Doors Down_ on repeat for thirty minutes_. _While writing it, I kept on having strange English novel/manor-type feelings, if that makes any sense.

* * *

The rain made everything smell musty and dank, the water kicking up settled mud and filth. Hunkered down in her raincoat, Rachel angled her umbrella as best as she could against the torrent, calling it a success when only every other wind gust plastered her hair to her face.

In her pocket, hand wrapped protectively around it, the reason for this mad trek sat.

Taking a break under an awning nicely devoid of tables or other bric-a-brac, Rachel moved back until she felt the chill of concrete seeping into her, angling her shoulder into the wind for good measure as she momentarily dropped the item to pull out her phone.

No missed calls.

Heart squeezing, Rachel typed in the number she'd gotten to know like her own in the past year. "Please," she whispered, unsure if she really heard herself through the hissing of the rain or imagining it. When no one answered, she tried again. She was starting to shiver.

This time, someone picked up, and Rachel listened to the cool tones of someone she used to know telling her to hang up and stop calling.

"No, wait," Rachel begged, "Please, just put me through? Please? Just for a second. I just need to – "

No, the voice repeated, hardening, warning her that her number was going to get blocked.

"No, _please_. Just for a _second_. Please. _Please_."

The click of the line closing drowned out the rain, and, slowly, trembling, her hand fell from her ear.

* * *

Pausing from where she had been crossing through the study to get to her bedroom, Santana frowned. "Papí?" she asked, "Who was that?"

When he met her eyes, her father looked away. "No one, mija," he smiled, walking over to take her shoulders in his hands, pressing a kiss to her temple, "Now, isn't it time for you to be in bed?"

Santana nodded. "Yes, I was heading there." Giving her father an answering smile, she turned, hand automatically coming up to hold a necklace that wasn't there. When her fingers brushed across naked skin, she faltered.

"Mija?"

"Oh, nothing, Papí. Good night." Without waiting for her father to return her words, Santana finished padding to her bedroom, bare feet cool and barely making noise on the floor.

As soon as her door closed behind her, she slumped, leaning backwards, the door catching her back. "_Rachel_," she sobbed out, sinking to her knees, hunching over and pressing her hands to her face, "_Rachel_…"

* * *

The necklace barely glinted in the light of the lamppost. Dangling it in front of her face, Rachel allowed the rain to batter against her body, closing her eyes as the umbrella gathered water at her feet, "_Santana_…"


	86. Chapter 86

**A/N: **This one was written while listening to the song _I Want You (She's so Heavy) _by _The Beatles _on repeat for thirty minutes. Let me just say that that song, which is already over six minutes long, is one of the most annoying songs in the world. So on repeat for thirty minutes... Hence this drabble.

* * *

"This _song _is so bad," Santana muttered under her breath, keeping the idiotic pose the choreography Artie and Mercedes had come up with forced her to be in. They'd already been practicing it for _hours_, but neither seemed to get that it wasn't because the rest of the glee club was stupid, but because their _moves _were stupid. Fuck this. Her back was beginning to cramp.

"And it's driving _me_ mad," Rachel mumbled next to her, sounding just as frustrated as Santana felt. With her hand cocked on her hip, her other hanging off of Santana's shoulder, she also looked just as uncomfortable as Santana was.

"Preach," Brittany added quietly, stuck in an even more uncomfortable position with her back pressed against Mike's. Mike nodded miserably.

Oh god. Santana's shoulder was now itching. Probably due to a stray strand of Rachel's hair bouncing off of her, Santana twitched.

"Santana?" Rachel whispered.

Glancing up to see if either Artie or Mercedes were looking in their direction, Santana mentally groaned, huffing as yet _another _loud diatribe on everyone's dancing skills left Wheezy's mouth, turning to face Santana directly. _God dammit_. "Rachel," she managed through her teeth.

"…Yes?"

"Three centimeters below your hand."

Rachel leaned forward, probably trying to move in to hear her better, which caused more hair to fall against Santana's skin, "I don't understand."

"Gah!" Swearing under her breath, Santana tried to twist her body out from under it. "Oh god, Berry, get your goddamn hair _off_'a me!"

Rachel's hand tightened on her shoulder. "Well _excuse me_, Santana," she muttered petulantly, "But would it hurt to ask nicely first?"

What the – Rachel was _really_ going to play _that_ game right _now_? Santana's skin was beginning to crawl. "_Rachel_," she gritted out, glaring directly at Mercedes, "Get your hair _off_ of _me_ afores I tear it out of your scalp!"

"She totally will," Brittany chimed in, "Just so you know."

"Great." Rachel sounded thrilled. Finally, she breathed in deeply, and when Santana was beginning to squirm in agony as she waited, Rachel jerked her head, trying to throw her hair off of Santana. That helped some, awesomely, but before Santana could start fully enjoying the loss of the irritant, Rachel's breath blew across her skin.

Instant goosebumps sprouted, a shiver going down Santana's back. "_Berry_?"

"Hush," Rachel cut her off, leaning even closer to blow again, "This is the best I can do, okay? Artie's surprisingly scary when he wants to be, and I don't want him to roll over my foot again if I move _too _much."

Shaking her head again, Rachel blew again, and it took all of Santana's concentration not to let a revealing noise out of her mouth. "Okay!" she hissed, "_Enough_! I'll take the goddamn hair. This is _worse_."

"It's quite alright, Santana," Rachel answered, sounding altogether too smug, "With my lung capacity, I can do this for as long as I want."


	87. Chapter 87

**A/N: **DD prompt from an anon; Santana is the only one who knows how to convince Rachel the voices in her head aren't real. Thanks!

* * *

Santana is the only one who knows how to convince Rachel the voices in her head aren't real. At first, it was only the feel of her hand closing around Rachel's that made the voices stop, the timbre of her voice resonating through Rachel's chest that stilled the whirling storm within her head. But then a look, a smile, or just Santana's attention became the catalyst that allowed Rachel to calm and just _be_.

It had started in grade school, almost becoming too much to bear until the new student had joined the class. Her accented voice, her distinctive smiles – Rachel had fixated on her, gravitating closer and closer until the crowded feeling within her head slowed and quieted with each direct interaction with this Santana Lopez.

Even when high school started, when the voices suddenly clamored, begging and screaming for her attention, any sort of attention from this one girl gave her silence. An insult was a veiled balm, a sneer a secret salve. Aware what Rachel needed from her, Santana gave what she could.

When glee started up, the days Santana sang were the best of all. When she saw Rachel frowning, the gloom of stress upon her brow, Santana would get her voice into the air, sending it to the girl she had promised years ago to take care of, no matter what.

And when it became worse, Rachel showing up at Santana's house, streaks of tears running down her cheeks as she shared what the voices spat and roiled within her head, Santana held her close, canceled whatever plans she had made, twining herself as close to Rachel as could. Her lips would brush along Rachel's, hands threading through her hair.

"I'm here," she would whisper, letting Rachel feel her heart beat in her chest, letting Rachel take as much of her as she needed, "They aren't real. I am. I'm real, Rachel… Rachel…"

And Rachel would cling to her, shaking as sweat would bead on her body, needing what Santana gave her. "Don't ever go," she'd whisper, hands sliding up and down Santana's body, "I need you. _I need you_."

"You have me," Santana answered every time, kissing Rachel's eyelids, the back of her hands, "And you'll always have me. I promise." Her voice would quiver, and Rachel would kiss her back, pulling her close. "You have me," she'd agree, whispering over and over again, "And you'll always have me. I promise. With everything within me, I _promise._"


	88. Chapter 88

**A/N: **DD based off a prompt from an anon; Rachel finds out that her girlfriend is next in line to be queen of some island. Thanks! Also, tiny reference to Princess Protection Program. XD

* * *

When Rachel walked into her girlfriend's house to find two Secret Service type guys sitting in the kitchen, black suits and practiced neutral expression on their faces, she figured it had something to do with Santana's mother's job of being a lawyer. Not seeing Santana anywhere around, she'd greeted Maribel with a smile, practically vibrating with news. She'd been accepted into N.Y.A.D.A., and she couldn't _wait _to share that information with Santana.

But Maribel Lopez had just smiled sadly at her, ushered her out of the kitchen, the two men's gazes sharp against her back, and told her that Santana was in her room.

Thanking her, but a little confused at the same time, Rachel was soon eagerly knocking at Santana's door. When Santana opened the door, Rachel breezed in with a short kiss to Santana's cheek, barely looking at her. "I did it," she beamed, taking a seat on Santana's bed, "I'm finally on my way to becoming the diva I'm meant to be."

"That's great," Santana responded tiredly, slowly closing the door. Barely managing a smile, she went back to where she had been obviously originally packing things from her closet into her suitcase, "I'm glad for you."

Taking note of how… Unexcited Santana sounded, Rachel studied her. "I'll forgive your subdued response because you seem busy." Santana snorted, and Rachel continued, "You're going somewhere? A vacation?"

Pausing from where she was shaking out one of her signature lined dressed, Santana looked up. "You could say that," she sighed, sighing again as she folded the dress and dropped it into her suitcase. "An _indefinite _vacation," she muttered, loud enough for Rachel to understand.

"What?" Sitting up, Rachel stared at her in alarm, "San?"

Santana sighed _again_. Finishing up with the next dress she had pulled off of a hanger, she slowly walked over to her bed, taking a slow, halting seat next to Rachel. "Rache," she said lowly, picking up one of Rachel's hands from her lap, thumbs moving over the white knuckles Rachel had incurred as she'd distractedly clutched at her skirt, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Breath hitching, Rachel hesitantly curled her hand around Santana's.

Air rushed out of Santana's nose, and she shook her head, eyes violently moving up before meeting Rachel's again; the lines next to her eyes crinkled, and she suddenly looked much older than Rachel had ever seen her before, "I've been lying to you."

"_What_?" Rachel jerked her hand back, shifting back as well. "San?"

Santana pushed herself up onto her knees. Opening her arms, she bobbed her head, "Come here."

Rachel tentatively shifted closer, hands coming up to curl into the back of Santana's shirt as she snuggled into her, letting Santana pull her close and bury her nose into Rachel's hair.

Sitting there, wrapped up in each other, it was with great reluctance that Santana started talking. With each word that left her mouth, Rachel's mouth dropped open wider and wider, her eyes growing larger and larger.

"So…" Santana sighed, pressing as tightly against Rachel as she could, "I… No… _I_… Say something?"

"I…" Rachel's throat squeezed shut. "You…"

"Babe?" Sounding desperate now, Santana fell sideways, pulling Rachel down with her, cradling her as close as she could. Closing her eyes, she pushed their cheeks together, "Rache?"

Staring at Santana's shoulder and the rest of Santana's room behind it, Rachel swallowed. "You're… A _princess_?"

"…Surprise?" Santana uttered weakly, squeezing Rachel. "I… If you stay with me, you wanted publicity, didn't you? How much more publicity," she laughed humorlessly, "Could you get than being the girlfriend of the next in line of the royal family of Costa Luna?"

"You're a _princess_?" Rachel repeated accusatorily, tears almost instantly gathering in her eyes as she started crying, "You're… You…"

"Oh no no _no_," Santana loosened her hold to sit up on her knees, "Babe, _not _okay. You can't cry. Stop it. Please. You know I _hate _it when you cry." Hands coming up to stroke and cup Rachel's face, Santana urged her to look at her, trying to put a crooked smile on her face that ended up being more of a grimace, "Babe. _Please_." Tears gathered in her own eyes, and the lines between her eyebrows tightened, panic edging into her voice, "I'm still _me_. Rachel. _Please_. I can't have _you _hating me. I couldn't _stand _it. Please say you don't hate me. I love you. What do I need to do? Rache, you're still my love. Please. What can I do? What can I _do_? I don't want to lose you. Not you, please, not you."

Rachel shook her head, voice strangling in her throat. "I'm sorry," she gasped, barely able to get it past the closing around her vocal chords, "This, this is too much. I need time."

"Rache – "

"_No_!" Rachel snapped, pulling herself away, "I need _time_, Santana!" Shoving herself off of the bed, she walked backwards until her back hit the door, waving her hand at Santana to stop her from following her. "Everything _about_ you," she accused, "Is a _lie_? Everything I know about _you_?"

Santana tried to steady herself on one palm, her other hand reaching out towards Rachel. "Not everything," she denied, shaking her head, "I still _love_ you. Doesn't that _mean_ anything? Royalty? It means _nothing_! _Nothing_!"

"But _how can I believe you_, Santana?" Rachel yelled, hand grasping the doorknob, "I don't _know you_!"

"You know me!" Santana yelled, rising, "You know me better than _anyone_!"

"_But how can I believe that_?" Rachel hissed, tears streaking down her face, "_How can I believe you_?" Sucking in a staggering breath, she sagged; head falling to rest her chin on her chest, bangs obscuring her clenched shut eyes, she raised her free hand. "Please," she whispered, ragged and beaten, "Please. I just… I just need time."

Santana swallowed. "Oh…Kay," she breathed in, "Okay. I just…" Her voice was small, terrified, "Do you still love me?"

Rachel's hand tightened around the doorknob, twisting it with a jerk of her wrist. "That's really the only thing I _do _know," she managed, meeting Santana's eyes, almost trembling. But before Santana could rise and go to her, she pulled the door open, running out with a choked, "Don't follow me," the last thing Santana sure of being the dark of her eyes asking Santana to forgive her.


	89. Chapter 89

**A/N: **Drunken drabble for Jamith; Santana may have been the self proclaimed queen of beer pong, but Rachel was on a mission to dethrone her. Probably not what she expected, but I cannot control where my mind goes. :D

* * *

Santana may have been the self proclaimed queen of beer pong, but Rachel was on a mission to dethrone her. It first started out as an idle threat Rachel had lobbed at her at one of Puck's parties as the girl was pulling on her jacket to go outside and have a smoke, already forgotten when Santana made it inside.

But Rachel had remembered it, and she had meant it, and she was determined to make it come true. Walking up to Puck, leaning into him and reaching up to feel his bicep (all things she'd learned early on was a fast way to get and _hold _his attention), making the appropriate sounds of appreciation, Rachel managed to make him promise to teach her all he knew by tenth of his kisses, running her hands through his mohawk and arching up into him.

"Sure," he'd promised, hands dangerously near the hem of her skirt, mouth coming back up to cover hers, "Whatever."

"Great," Rachel had grinned, shamelessly kissing him back, knowing that by the nature of the party they were at that he wouldn't have the _chance _to make any overtly _sexual _moves.

And indeed, just as one of his strong hands was drifting too far up her thigh, her intoxicated mind spreading her legs even before she could fully get a grasp on what she was doing, the door to Puck's bedroom had slammed open, two loud boisterous voices providing enough shock to her system to get her to slide out from under Puck's body. "Okay," she'd gasped, sucking in as much breath as she could, "Start practicing now?"

"Only if you promise some more sweet Jewish American Princess _action_," Puck growled, throwing a middle finger up to Sam and Mercedes as his arms came up, wrapping around Rachel's mid-section, lips brushing along her neck.

_Santana_, her mind had yelled, _Santana_.

Struggling up, allowing one last passionate kiss, Rachel pushed off the bed. "Beer pong," she gasped, finger coming up to press against Puck's mouth, blinking drunkenly at him, "And then... And then we'll see."

"You sure you don't want another wine cooler?" Puck smirked, but Rachel smacked his shoulder. "Fine, fine, let me find my boy Finn. We'll get this set up."

As he pushed off from the bed, brushing past her, Rachel closed her eyes. "Toppling Santana," she breathed, swallowing, "That's the plan. Not Puck. Not... Puck."

Five minutes later, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light of Puck's kitchen, Rachel watched as he and Finn dragged the folding table from Puck's bedroom towards the living room. "You need help?" she raised her voice, asking, having to smile when Puck grunted a negative, Finn shuffling on behind him.

"Okay," he'd finally nodded, grabbing Rachel by her waist and tugging her forward, close to the end of the table he stood at, "_What _do you know about beer pong already?"

Shivering as Puck's arms wrapped securely around her, avoiding Finn's hound dog expression because, seriously, they weren't together anymore so Rachel could be... _Snuggly_ with whomever she wanted, Rachel reached forward, wrapping her fingers around the ping-pong ball waiting for someone to pay attention to it at the end of the table. "Uhm," she sighed, tapping it against the table, "Throw the ball at the other side an' get it in a cup...?"

Puck snorted, hand coming up to wrap around Rachel's. "That's the simplest explanation, maybe," he shook his head, lips suddenly pressing to the back of Rachel's neck as his other hand pressed into her stomach, just above her belly button, "But there's no _imagination _in that."

"Imagination?" Rachel swallowed, fighting the urge to press back, harder into Puck's body, trying to ignore the hitching of her breathing.

"Yeah." Arranging Rachel's fingers around the ping-pong ball, Puck pulled her hand back. "Look at the cups," he whispered, lips now brushing along her ear, "And aim not for the _middle _of the cup but the _rim_..." Pulling Rachel's hand back, he continued, "It's better to aim to past what you want, bouncing _back_..."

As Rachel followed what he said, his hand pulled her closer to him, hand splayed along her stomach. The ping-pong ball sailed through the air, bouncing up and down, finally splashing into a waiting cup of beer. "Yes!" Rachel cheered, turning, wrapping her arms around Puck's neck before she realized what she was doing. Dropping her forehead to Puck's chest, she whispered, "You'll be on my team?"

"Yeah," Puck's hands settled on Rachel's waist, voice deepening, "Us Jews gotta stick together..."

* * *

Finally, after enough time practicing the technique Puck urged her to have, more often than not throwing the ping-pong ball where she meant it to go, Rachel sought Santana out. Finding her wrapped around Brittany on the dance floor, Rachel firmed her expression, waded onto the dance floor, and tapped Santana on the shoulder.

"What?" Santana raised her head, eyes narrowing as they focused on Rachel, "What the hell? Hobbit?"

"I challenge you," Rachel lifted her chin, fixing Santana (and Brittany) with a pointed stare, "To a game of beer pong."

"Oh?" Santana paused, studying Rachel, "Do you know what you're getting into?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah," she agreed, settling her chin into Santana's shoulder, "Sannie's the queen."

"That may be," Rachel dipped her head, "But I have the _king _of beer pong with me."

Santana's eyes darkened. "Puck, huh?" she asked, lips turning up, "This should be fun..."

Rachel grinned. "I was hoping you thought so," she raised her head, making her voice sound confident and _ready_, "Twenty minutes, kitchen, be there or be _square_."


	90. Chapter 90

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Santana says 'I love you' to Rachel for the first time in the strangest/weirdest place or activity possible. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel had just taken a giant bite out of the mango in front of her when Santana leaned forward, pressed her forehead into Rachel's and uttered so seriously, "I love you."

Freezing, mouth still tight around the stringy fruit, eye wide and teeth starting to relax as she met Santana's dark gaze, Rachel pulled the fruit from her mouth. "Santana?" she breathed.

Shoulders shrugging, Santana's lips turned up. "I love you," she repeated, hands coming up to wrap around Rachel's, helping her pull the mango down.

"I... I think I heard that," Rachel swallowed, swallowing again as the fruit was dropped from her hands to the plate, "I just... I'm not sure."

Santana sighed. "Rache," she pushed her head even forward, lips trembling along Rachel's, "I. Love. _You_."

"I _heard_ you," Rachel shook her head, pushing Santana from her, eyes narrowing, "I just don't know if I can believe you."

"Why not?" Santana's brow furrowed, the lines between her eyebrows deepening. "We've been together for _months_."

Rachel shook her head. "_Two_ months," she specified, hand coming up to splay along Santana's mouth, "That's not _enough_."

"Enough for _what_?" Firming her lips together, Santana sat back, dark eyes sweeping up and down Rachel's face. "Rache. I'm not lying. I _love_ you."

"And I can't _believe_ you," Rachel pushed herself back from the table, glaring at her. "We've been together _two_ months. _Two months_."

Santana ground her jaw. "How long was it until Finn told you that he loved you?" she spat, pushing herself from the table as well.

Rachel's mouth clicked shut. "_Santana_."

"No, I'm serious." Shaking her head, Santana's gaze roamed over Rachel's body, over the rest of the table. Her attention moving to the interior of Rachel's kitchen, she slumped, resting her hip against the chair she'd just vacated. "I'm not lying," she offered, looking up, searching for Rachel's eyes, "I just need you to know."

"While I'm eating a _mango_?" Rachel held up the fruit, lips pursing.

Santana growled. "Why _not_?" she pressed, "It's just a fuckin' _fruit_. Why can't I tell you what I _fuckin_' _feel_?"

"Because it's a _fruit_," Rachel insisted, "A _fruit_. You can't tell me you love me over a _fruit_!"


	91. Chapter 91

**A/N: **Drunken drabble prompt from an anon; Rachel and Santana have a small argument before Nationals and that's the reason why only Brittany and Mercedes gets attention during her solo in 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light'. Thanks!

* * *

"_No_," Santana snapped, slashing her hand through the air, "I don't _care _if you just want to wish him good luck – I do _not _want you anywhere _near _Jesse St. _Douche Bag_."

Rachel shook her head. "I can't control it if I see him or not," she crossed her arms, raising her chin and meeting Santana's glare head on, "And if I see him, I _will _wish him and Vocal Adrenaline good luck."

"_Why_?" Santana barked, "Why do you care _anything _about that drama queen? He…" She worked her jaw, taking a step forward, almost chest to chest with Rachel now, "He _betrayed_ you, Rachel! He rubbed a fuckin' chicken _fetus_ on your face!"

Letting out a breath of air, Rachel rolled her eyes. "That was two years ago," she gentled her voice, putting her hand on Santana's arm, "And I'm happy to let bygones be bygones." Her lips curled up, her fingers stroking Santana's bicep, "Like I did with you."

Santana's mouth snapped open, her eyebrows pushing together as she drew herself up straight, lifting one hand. "I wasn't your _girlfriend _then," she growled, "But _he _was. He's your _ex-boyfriend_, Rache! This is Nationals! Why do you _care_ so much?"

"Why do _you_ care so much?" Rachel responded, pulling her hand away. "You're being controlling, Santana. I _don't_ like it."

"And I don't like _you_ wanting to see _Jesse_," Santana hissed, "Am I not good enough? Do I have to worry about _Jesse_, too?"

Rachel recoiled. "Too? _Too_?" she raised her voice, taking a step back, "Santana! I thought we were _over_ this." When Santana opened her mouth, Rachel took another step back, cutting her off, "You _still _doubt me? You doubt my _feelings_?"

Santana's mouth clacked shut. Eyes widening, she stepped forward. "No," she tried to smile, "No, Rache. I _know_ how you feel for me."

"Then _why_ are we fighting about this?" Rachel sucked in a deep breath, lowering her voice. "I _love_ you, Santana. I'm _proud_ to be with you. Proud to be _here_ with you. But I'm _not _proud to be having this argument with you. I'd wish…" she trailed off, lifting her hand to stop Santana from reaching for her, "I'd wish you could just _be _here for me without being jealous. But you can't." Rachel swallowed. "So I'm going to take a walk, Santana. Please don't follow me."

Santana's hands curled into fists, and she looked away, chin pressed close into her shoulder. "…Fine," she grated, eyes dark as they met Rachel's again, "Just be back before it starts." Turning on her heel, she stalked off, growling under her breath.

Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, Rachel turned on her own heel, heading for the outside. She _loved _Santana, but it was going to take a while to get past this. She only hoped she'd be able to calm down before their performance… Or else she'd have to avoid her even _then_.

And, as she actually ran into Jesse, looking up to see familiar dark eyes glaring at her from across the way, Rachel realized she didn't have the energy to forgive her before the competition started. You want to feud? she narrowed her eyes at Santana, glaring at her as she stalked back to where the New Directions were warming up, Fine. You're not getting my attention for the _whole_ performance.

Didn't matter how petty it was. Santana needed to learn Rachel could still make her _own _decisions. Her _own_ decisions that meant Santana deserved some avoidance. No matter _how_ much Rachel loved her.

Her _own_ decisions.


	92. Chapter 92

**A/N: **Drunken drabble prompt from an anon; making Quinn jealous. Thanks!

* * *

"Berry," Santana snarled, hand slamming Rachel's locker door shut.

"_Santana_," Rachel jerked, ducking, pulling the textbook she had just taken out of her locker into her chest, "What… What do you want?"

Santana pursed her lips. "First things first," she lowered her voice, staring directly into Rachel's eyes, "You tell anyone about this – _anyone_ – I will _not_ hesitate to ruin _any _chance you have with the giant ogre."

"Finn?"

"_Yes_, Finn." Rolling her eyes, Santana pulled back, crossing her arms. "I know for a _fact_ what drives him crazy. If you _deny_ me…" she raised an eyebrow, "I'll tell him that you have _no _interest in him. Zero. Zilch."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Santana. "Though I'm not interested in him in the _least_, and even if I _was_ I'd be sure I'd be able to convince him regardless… What do you want?'

Darting her eyes back and forth down the hall, Santana suddenly wrapped her hand around Rachel's wrist, pulling her into the nearest classroom. Snapping at everyone to get out – including the teacher – she turned back to Rachel. "You."

"Me?"

"You." Santana nodded. "You're with Sam, right?"

Rachel furrowed her brow. "…Yes? Hence my non-interest in Finn. Besides. I didn't think it was a _secret_, anymore," she smiled, tilting her head.

"It's really not." Rolling her eyes, Santana leaned her hip against the nearest desk. "Just…" She sighed. "I… You _owe_ me, right?"

"_Owe_ you?" Rachel almost yelled, "How do I _owe _you?" She resettled on her feet, shaking her head and throwing her hair over her shoulder, "And what does that have to do with my _boyfriend_?"

Santana scoffed. "It only has to do with _Trouty Mouth_," she leaned forward, bowing her head to meet Rachel's eyes squarely, "In that _he_ owes me as well and I'm collectin'."

Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, Rachel looked down. "Alright. Santana. How does _Sam _owe you?"

Santana scoffed. "I totally went out with him, _insuring _his heterosexuality as seen by the _Neanderthals_ of this school. Once Quinn dropped him for the _ogre_," she shuddered, a dark look passing her face, "With _those_ lips, I _knew_ he needed a beard."

"Yes, and you left him for _Karofsky_." Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, Santana?"

Santana glared at her.

Sighing, Rachel shifted so most of her weight was on her other foot. "Santana, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

Shaking her head, Santana looked away. Finally, "I need you to flirt with me."

Rachel opened her mouth, nothing coming out of it. "Wh-what?" she whispered. "You want _me_… To flirt with _you_…?"

"Right." And Santana was all business. "Talk to your Ken of a boyfriend, explain the situation with him, and _flirt_ with me."

Blinking, Rachel stared at her. "…Why?"

"Because Quinn is _so_ jealous of you it isn't funny and I fuckin' want in on that!"

"…You want in on… _Quinn_?"

Rolling her head along her shoulders, Santana looked away. Red rose above her nose. "No sassing mouth," she firmed, bringing her eyes back to meet Rachel's, "I don't want your condemnation."

"No, _no_." Rachel took a step forward, hand coming to a rest on Santana's forearm, "No condemnation! I just… What about Brittany?"

"What _about_ her?"

Sighing, Rachel shook her head. "I'm sorry if I'm making assumptions," she patted Santana's arm, pulling her hand back so only the tips of her fingers rested on her, "I just thought you two were together?"

A pained look passed Santana's face. "It's not about _that_ blonde, okay?" she spat out, "This is about _Quinn_."

"Okay." Sliding her fingers off of Santana's arm, Rachel smiled. "I'd be happy," she started, tilting her head again, "To help you with Quinn, but I still don't understand you wanting to _flirt with me_?"

Santana's hand came up to wrap around Rachel's. "Ever since Finn," she hissed, "Quinn thinks you're the most amazing. So yeah. You need to flirt with me. In front of Quinn. _Got_ it?"

Rachel swallowed. "Santana…"

"No, _no_ 'Santana'." Santana fingers curled around Rachel's hand, fingernails digging into her skin, "You talk to Sammie and get his okay. If you _don't_ do this, I **_swear_** – "

Rachel put her other hand up. "I understand," she nodded. "Though I don't like the fallacy this'll foster, I'm willing to at least try."

Santana stopped. "What? I don't have to threaten you?"

"No." Rachel laughed. "You'd make Quinn happy, Santana. And if it takes me pretending to like you to do it, I'd be _happy _to help you get her from Joe's puppy-dog clutches. Besides." She smiled, patting Santana's hand, "I'm sure Sam will understand. Once I talk to him."

Searching Rachel's eyes, Santana slowly relaxed. "…Yeah," she smirked, "God knows a guy's fantasy is seein' his girl with another girl." Leaning forward, Santana whispered close to Rachel's mouth, gripping her hand tightly to stop her from leaning back, "And god knows he – and Quinn – 'll need to do some 'fantasizing' of their own once they sees _us_…"

"Right." Smiling, Rachel internally wondered what she had just gotten herself into. Please, she continued to smile, watching Santana's face relax, let Sam _understand_…


	93. Chapter 93

**A/N: **Drunken drabble prompt from hucklebarn; "Why don't we do 'So Emotional'?" "Isn't that a little inappropriate? After, you know, what happened sophomore year?" Thanks!

* * *

"Why don't we do _So Emotional_?"

"Isn't that a little inappropriate? After. You know. What happened sophomore year?"

Santana froze, her jaw tightening. Her eyes darted up, past Rachel, then around the room. Finally, she dipped her head, fingers curling again on the piano keys, "That was real?"

Rachel's lips turned down. "You know it was," she softly chastised, slowly sitting down next to Santana on the piano bench. Her shoulders wavered before firming again as she watched Santana shift away from her.

Santana pushed down on the C key. "I thought for _sure_," she started, making her voice light, unconcerned, "That was a drug-induced _nightmare_." She slanted her eyes to look at Rachel, another finger pressing down on B .

"Do your nightmares normally involve getting satisfied sexually?" Rachel responded archly, not having time to put a hand up before Santana was whirling around, hand slamming down on Rachel's wrist. Her fingernails were sharp against her skin.

"I don't know what you're _talking_ about," Santana hissed, teeth barely parted as her eyes burned into Rachel's, "So you better shut the fuck up and forget _ever_ bringing that up again."

Rachel tried to jerk her wrist back, but Santana didn't let go. "Santana."

Santana's glare strengthened.

Rachel searched Santana's eyes. "Santana." She licked her lips, looking away, voice becoming quiet, "I don't regret it."

"Regret. _What_?"

"What you want me to forget."

A frustrated noise erupted from Santana's throat. "Stop _talking_ about it. It was a mistake. Don't you _remember_?" She shook Rachel's hand, the lines in her neck sharp as her voice grew gruffer as it rose.

"No, I _don't_ remember." Rachel shook her wrist in taunting mimicry. "_You_ come on to _me_. And then – _nothing_? After you _said_," her voice rose as well, Rachel leaning forward to make Santana lean back, "That you'd at least call a slushie-cease? What happened to _that_, Santana?"

Santana glared at her. "Well, apparently I lied."

"Right." Rachel straightened, nodding. "You lied. You slushied me the next day." Her hand tensed in Santana's grip. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did you _do_ that, Santana?"

"Stop saying my name."

"No. I want some answers. Santana. I've waited two years. _Santana_."

"_Stop saying my name_!" Santana snapped, dropping Rachel's hand and pushing her back, jumping from the piano. "Fine. _Fine_." Watching Rachel steady herself with the piano, using it to keep her seat, Santana stalked forward. "You want to _know_," she lowered her voice dangerously, hands coming up to support herself on the piano on either side of Rachel's shoulders, "Why I _fucked_ you and _dropped_ you? It's simple."

Rachel met her eyes squarely.

"Because I found your phone."

"What?" Rachel's eyebrows furrowed.

Santana's lips twisted.

"I don't understand."

Air rushed out of Santana's nose. "Your _phone_," she sounded out.

"I _heard_ you," Rachel snapped, "But I don't know what you _mean _by that."

Santana pushed herself back. "_I did it_," she rattled off, "_I got her to agree. Now on to Brittany and Quinn. If I get them, this will be perfect._" Santana shook her head. "I used – and _got_ used by – people enough. I didn't need someone _else _using me to get ahead."

"_What_?" Rachel's mouth opened, and she stood, taking a step forward, "_Santana_ – "

"_I still don't want you using my name_," Santana cut her off.

Rachel lurched to a stop. "Fine," she clipped, "But will you _listen _to me?" She softened her gaze.

Gritting her teeth, Santana finally gave a harsh jerk of her head, signaling she'd at least listen for a second.

"Thank you." Rachel breathed in. "Sa – " she paused, eyes flashing up to meet Santana's, hurrying on, "That text wasn't about _sleeping _with anyone. Don't you remember?" She took another step forward, taking another when Santana didn't react, "Before we… _Slept_ together, I asked you to be in my _Run Joey Run _video."

Santana's eyes widened.

"Right." Allowing a smile to turn the corners of her lips up, Rachel slowly reached out, taking Santana's hand. "I'd ultimately decided against asking Quinn, as her pregnancy was too far along and it would have distracted from, well, _me_," she shrugged, "But I was still excited that I'd gotten you to agree."

"But you sent that after we slept together," Santana frowned, accusing.

"You didn't really give me a chance to do it beforehand, did you?" Rachel laughed softly. Studying Santana, she sighed and let go of her hand. "Why… Why didn't you _talk _to me?"

Santana looked down, saying almost to herself, "I _was _wondering why Brittany never told me she'd fucked you. But."

"But?"

Raising her eyes to meet Rachel's, Santana shook her head. "You never approached _me_, either."

"You _slushied _me, Santana," Rachel shook her own head, walking away, taking her seat at the piano again, "Believe me, I'd gotten the message loud and clear."

"Right." Santana breathed out. A severe expression on her face, she followed Rachel, sliding back into her own vacated seat. "I couldn't talk to you," she finally admitted after half a minute of silence, looking at Rachel from the corner of her eye, "I'm Santana fucking Lopez. You were, well, _you_."

"I get it." Rachel rolled her eyes, "The past is past. Let's move on."

Santana nodded. After another half minute, she asked, "Are we still doing this duet?"

Rachel looked up, staring at her in surprise. "You still want to?"

"It's my senior year." Santana raised her shoulders, turning to smirk at Rachel, "Why not buck the system?"

"Right." A corner of Rachel's lips turned up. "You still don't want to talk about what… Happened between us?"

Santana closed her eyes. "I'm with Brittany now," she said softly, "And you're marrying Finnwad. I think the best I could do was sing _So Emotional _with you."

Raising her hand, Rachel softly squeezed Santana's knee, pulling her hand back when Santana looked at her. "I understand. We totally _would_ rock that song, wouldn't we?"

"Yeah," Santana grinned. Pausing, she sighed, shrugged, and reached out to squeeze Rachel's knee back, "We're going to talk about this again, aren't we?"

"Of _course_," Rachel chirped, "You really think I'd just so suddenly drop it? But we have a duet to plan, Santana. That takes precedence!" Grinning, she bumped Santana's shoulder with her own, eyes lowering for a second before smiling again, "Now, how do you want to split this up?"

Santana bumped her shoulder back. "Let's just run through it once," she smiled, staring at Rachel for a second before shaking her head and leaning down to grab her backpack near the foot of the piano, "I'm _sure _you'll have strong ideas about takin' over _most_ of the singing."

"Don't you mean _all _of the singing?"

"Berry, I can _still_ make your life a living hell, you know that, right?"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say…"


	94. Chapter 94

**A/N: **Drunk-ish drabble for poohlikeaboss, who provided, "I have to admit, I always wondered if you would taste like berries." Thanks!

* * *

"I have to admit, I always wondered if you would taste like berries."

Looking up from where she was pulling a record out of the bookcase, Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. "I'm… Sorry?" she asked, frowning when she noticed a sheen of dust on the record cover, blowing across it and rubbing it with a sleeve.

Santana nodded in the way that meant she was swallowing while doing so, brandishing her glass of what was probably something incredibly alcoholic; Rachel had smelled it when she brushed by Santana earlier. "Mmhm, yeah," she nodded again, clearing her throat, "Rachel… _Berry_." Her fingernails clacked against the glass.

"I still don't understand."

"Pshh." Standing up from the couch, Santana bobbed her head, walking over to watch Rachel slide the record out of the case and set it onto the record player in the corner of the room. "I'm a… I'm a lesbian, kay?" Santana shrugged, taking another sip, "And, and even if I _don't _mean it in a sexual way – _don't_ – I still have thoughts."

Rachel flicked her eyes at the other girl, dropping the needle into place. "How can that _not_ be sexual?" she asked, fingers pausing before she turned the record player on.

Santana looked like she was mulling over that answer. Her eyes were narrowed, the lines around her mouth pinched. Finally, "If you were an ice cream flavor! Like that book!" Brightening, a wide smirk crossed Santana's face.

"A book?" Curious, Rachel turned the volume down before beginning to play the record, Luis Armstrong quickly swelling below her and Santana's conversation.

"The _series_ of books." Nodding, Santana smiled. "The upside-down wayside school or something?" Her finger twirled in the air as she took another sip, "The dead rats always tryin' ta sneak into the classroom?"

…That _did _seem a little familiar. "Wait…" Rachel put her hand out, stopping Santana from throwing the hand holding her drink up as accent to her words, "The books about the school that didn't have a certain story? And… A song about a missing sock? And a tattoo of a – "

"Potato!" Santana chimed in, eyes sparkling. "Yeah! Yeah, that series."

"Wow." Smile widening, Rachel looked down. "I _loved_ that series," she admitted, "But." She shook her head, "How are _you _remembering this while you're _drunk_?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana raised her glass in a cheers motion, walking sideways to retake her seat on the couch. "Because I'm awesome," she announced, eyes moving from Rachel's face to the record player. "Gotta tell ya, Berry," she raised an eyebrow, "Never thought you'd be a jazz person."

Rachel snorted. "Because I'm only Broadway and Barbra?" Taking a seat next to Santana, she leaned back, closing her eyes. Letting the trumpet wash over her, she smiled. "Whose record collection do you think this is?"

"Wait." Rustling, and then suddenly Santana's hand was hot and heavy on her knee, Santana bending at the waist to peer suspiciously at Rachel, "They aren't your dads's?"

Rachel nodded, moving her head back so she wasn't staring directly at the bridge of Santana's nose. "While a couple of them are, most are mine; this one included."

"…Huh." Studying Rachel's eyes, a slow, wide smile stretched across Santana's face. "You're lucky I don't find that damn crazy," she teased, her fingers tensing on Rachel's knee, "But you get props for hiding me from Puck and his grabby hands." She finally leaned back, taking another sip and nodding as she did so, "Boy knows he ain't got a chance, but even he tends to forget that me dancin' with him doesn't mean a happy ending, you know what I mean?" She licked her lips, her hair making a noise against the back of the couch as she tilted her head to meet Rachel's eyes again. "So you? Why are _you _in here? It's _your _party."

"Exactly."

"…What?"

Rachel smiled. "It's my party, so I choose to come in here and listen to one of my favorite records for a couple of minutes." After a second, she shifted, propping herself with her elbow against the back of the couch, pulling one of her knees up to draw it underneath her other one as she turned to face Santana, "I was surprised to see you following me, to be honest."

"Eh." Raising one shoulder, Santana mimicked Rachel's position, "Everyone's too damn wrapped up in each other. You were the only spark of life in this whole damn party, you know?"

Letting out a breath of air, Rachel nodded, lightly sucking on her bottom lip. "Does this mean you're as boring as me?" she couldn't stop a grin from erupting on her face.

Santana's face fell. "Don't you even joke about that, Rachel Berry!" she deepened her voice, lifting her free hand to jut her pointer finger out at her, "Or I might even try to prove you don't taste like berries after all!"

Rachel stifled a laugh behind one of her hands. "I'd like to see you try," she breezed, hopping up from the couch to walk over to the record player and turn it off as the last notes faded from the second song, "But for now I'm feeling the need to find another wine cooler."

Santana rolled her eyes. "And it's going to taste like pink, isn't it?" she smirked at Rachel, rising as well.

Pink rising high on her cheeks, Rachel shook her head. "At least I know it won't taste like me," she smiled, waiting for Santana to join her at the door of the study before making her way to the kitchen, "Because I'm pretty sure pink doesn't taste like berries – and neither do I."

"Right," Santana offered, trailing after her, "But I'm telling you now, Ray-_chel_ Behr-_rhi_, don't expect me not to test that out sometime tonight. Because." She sped up, whispering directly into Rachel's ear as she passed her beat her to the refrigerator in the kitchen, "I _am _a lesbian, and you look _damn fine_ tonight."


	95. Chapter 95

**A/N: **A drunken drabble that was supposed to be one thing and turned into another.

* * *

When a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, making her fingers fall heavy onto the piano keys, Rachel snapped her head up to glare at the girl standing over her. "What do you want?" she spat.

Santana stared stonily at her. "What do you think?" she narrowed her eyes, straddling the piano bench next to Rachel without letting go of her wrist, "And, really, why am I _not_ surprised to see you here?"

_Here_ was Between the Sheets. Rachel frowned. "Let go of my wrist," she whispered.

"No." Santana shook her head.

"Let _go._ Of my _wrist_," Rachel repeated, shifting far enough to the other side so there was no risk of Santana's thigh touching hers.

Santana's lips turned further down. "Rachel."

"_Santana_ – "

Santana surged forward, lips smashing into Rachel's. "No," she hissed, her other arm coming up to lock around Rachel's waist, barely flinching when Rachel's free hand splayed tight against her clavicle. Plundering Rachel's mouth with her tongue, making Rachel whimper as her mouth opened habitually, letting her in, Santana slid herself closer. "No," she repeated, voice husky as she pressed her forehead into Rachel's, "_Rache_. _Please_. Talk to me."

Curling her fingers up, now clutched around Santana's shoulder, Rachel dropped her other, held hand, down, it and Santana's bouncing on Santana's thigh. "_What_," she started, having to swallow to lower her voice, "What is there to talk about? _You_." Tears rose in her eyes, "Broke up with me."

"_I didn't_," Santana all but yelled, rearing back, burning eyes searing into Rachel's, "For _fuck's sake_, Rachel, I _didn't_ break up with you!"

"So what does '_we're over'_ _mean_, then?" Rachel glared back, shaking her head, "What does that _mean_, Santana?"

Jerking her body violently, fingernails cutting into Rachel's wrist before letting go so her hand could completely to push forward to take Rachel's upper arm, Santana's face suddenly shattered. "I _need_ you," she whispered, "You're _my_ Rachel. Don't you… Don't you _know_ I didn't _mean_ it?"

Rachel swallowed, pulling back. "You break up with me over any little thing, Santana," she offered, voice hitching in her chest as the building tears became too many to keep swimming in her eyes, starting to fall down her cheeks, "And I don't know… I don't know…"

"No no no no no no," Santana surged forward again, kissing Rachel quiet again, "_No_. _Baby_."

"_Stop it_." Hand sliding up to push against Santana's throat, forcing her back, Rachel slumped, "_Please_. Stop it. I don't know if I can…" Her large, dark, dark, teary eyes met Santana's, "If I could handle another break up."

Santana licked her lips, chin starting to tremble as tears overtook her eyes. "No, baby, _please_. I'm _not_ – I didn't _mean_ – " Her jaw worked, and she suddenly dropped her chin, hands slipping down Rachel's arm and side. "You're the only good thing in my life," she whispered, body jerking.

"Then why are you always breaking _up with me_?" Rachel demanded, almost begging, "Why are we always breaking up?"

Santana looked away, and though Rachel waited for a long time, didn't answer.

"Fine," Rachel clipped, swallowing, eyes burning as more tears fell, pushing herself back as she rose, "…Fine."

"_Rache_ – "

"No." Shaking her head, Rachel's fingers slowly stroked Santana's cheek, catching on the wet trail her tears were making. "I _love you_, Santana. I've never loved anyone more. But. _Please_." She now outright begged, crying harder, "Don't come after me unless you _mean_ it."

"But I _do_ – "

Rachel's fingers pressed into her mouth. "No," she breathed, voice trembling, "Santana. Until you can tell me why _this_…" She gestured back and forth between them, "Always happens… Maybe… Maybe we're not meant to be."

"But I _love _you!" Santana reached out, catching Rachel's wrist again, "And we're meant to _be_. You _know_ it."

Pausing from where she had been turning to go, Rachel turned. "Maybe," she whispered, a ghost of a smile on her face, "But maybe we're just supposed to hurt each other instead." When Santana didn't answer, staring at her, her fingers slackening, Rachel took her hand back. "I love you, Santana," she repeated, smiling sadly, "But don't assume that love means you don't have to prove you love me too."

Watching Rachel walk off, small and sad, Santana curled her hands into fists on the cool piano bench. "But I love you…" she whispered, a sob welling up, head falling forward, eyes clenching shut, "_I love you_…"


	96. Chapter 96

**A/N: **Drunk-ish drabble for an anon who wanted a Pezberry prompt of this Faberry picture: 24. media. tumblr (dot) com (slash) tumblr_m30ea4wClw1qbhxqdo1_1280. png - I'm sorry for the crossover, and the picture belongs to whomever drew it; unfortunately I do not know the artist offhand. Thanks!

* * *

They were in the library stacks. Santana, still clad in her Cheerio workout clothes of white WMHS Cheerios tank top and small red shorts, Rachel in one of her pink tiny skirts and pink sweater. With her arm wrapped around Rachel's waist, sitting back against the library table, Rachel pushed in close to her and kissing her as good as she got, Santana knew she was fuckin' lucky that it was a Saturday afternoon and no one else was around.

"See?" she husked, tongue sliding out to trace Rachel's lips, "Not even a janitor to interrupt us."

Nodding, a wordless moan purring in the back of her throat, Rachel tightened her grip on Santana's arm. "May… Maybe," she sighed, tilting her head up, lips parting to let Santana inside, "But I'm still worrying…"

Santana dropped her head, completely taking over Rachel's mouth. "Don't do that," she whispered directly against Rachel's lips, "It's not sexy."

Rachel snorted. Pushing closer, she sighed as Santana jumped onto the table proper, gasping when Santana's legs wrapped around her hips. "_Santana_!"

"_Rachel_," Santana mocked, smirking, pulling back to study the passion flushed expression on her secret girlfriend's face, "What is it?" Her hand that had been pressed against the table top lifted, cupping Rachel's cheek, fingers slipping forward to push Rachel's hair away from her face. "You're letting your bangs grow out?" she asked.

Eyelashes fluttering shut at the soft touch after the almost proprietary kisses Santana had been giving her earlier, Rachel smiled. "Maybe. Do you like it?"

Santana bobbed her head. Tightening her thighs, she pulled Rachel even closer. "Maybe…" she lead, trailing off, dropping her forehead to rest it against Rachel's, "But I'm not going to be the reason you're going to change yourself, okay?"

Rachel picked at Santana's tank. "You mean that?" she asked quietly, lifting her chin, her nose brushing against Santana's.

"Uhm… Yeah."

Lifting her hands, wrapping her arms around Santana's shoulders, Rachel beamed. "Thank you," she whispered, shuffling even forward until the tops of her thighs pushed against the table edge, then started along Santana's jaw, heading towards her lips again, "Aside from my animal sweaters, you're the first person who lets me make my own decisions."

"That's because your animal sweaters were an abomination against _everything_," Santana grinned, angling her head to finally meet Rachel's lips with her own, "An' I'm _not _going to apologize for making you burn those."

Rachel shook her head. "That's fine," she smiled, kissing Santana deeply, "I think it was time to move on from the _known_, anyway."

"Good…" Sighing into Rachel's mouth, tightening her thighs to pull Rachel snugly into her, Santana buried her hands into her hair. "Now shuts up and let's get on with the mackin'. We have about an hour before they lock the doors, and, you know…" She smirked, rolling her hips against Rachel's midsection, "I've always been wantin' to get it on in a library…"


	97. Chapter 97

**A/N: **Drunk-ish drabble for an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

She couldn't do it. Staring down at the girl kneeling in front of her, Rachel was sickened to realize she couldn't do it. "…No," she breathed, hating the shocked realization clouding into the girl she loved's eyes, "No, I can't."

"_What_?" Mouth flapping open, Santana swallowed, then swallowed again, eyes getting whiter and whiter, finally so white that her irises were mere pinpricks, "You… _Can't_?"

Rachel jerked her head to the side.

Her body slumping piece by piece, Santana suddenly fell back, her butt slamming into the calf of her leg bent into the ground. "What…?" she whispered, barely making a sound, "What? I don't… What?" Thrusting the small black box up, it was like she was desperate to change what Rachel had said, "No. Rache. _Rache_. _Don't_ you?"

Her hand in the air, Rachel stepped back, "_Santana_."

Red blossomed on Santana's face. "I _can't_ fuckin' _believe_ this," she drew herself up straight, hands falling to slam into her leg, shaking her head before pushing herself up, "Have you been playin' me this whole time?"

"What? _No_!" Following Santana's ascendance, Rachel took a step backwards only to step forward again, her hand automatically coming up to reach for Santana, "I'm just – not ready."

Santana violently shrugged her hand off. "You answered Finn pretty damn quickly," she snapped, body shaking with hurt anger.

"And I _broke up with him_," Rachel sighed, reaching for Santana again, "Doesn't that _tell _you anything?"

"But I'm going to New York with you!" Santana yelled, surging forward, staring straight into Rachel's eyes, her hands digging into Rachel's shoulders, the one still holding the black box a bit more painful than the other, "Doesn't _that_ mean _anything_ to you?"

Rachel stared up at her. "Yes," she clenched her jaw, "Yes, it does. But. Santana." Her hands coming up to cup Santana's face, she curled her fingers around Santana's ears, tugging her even closer, pulling her head down, into her chest, "You've come to mean more to me than Finn _ever _has."

"Then…" Santana struggled, trying to pull her head up, "Then why won't you _marry _me?"

"_Because_." Rachel moved back enough to meet Santana's eyes. "It's not that I don't _want_ to," she tried to smile, her lips trembling, "But we _can't_. _San_. I'm _not _going to rush with you. Why are _you…_ Rushing with _me_?" When Santana didn't answer, averting her gaze, Rachel nodded, brushing her lips against Santana's. "I'm scared, too, San. Scared that you're going to find someone better. And I may have thought about asking you to marry me, but…"

Santana's head snapped up. "_You_… Wanted to ask _me_?" she whispered, thumbs starting to stroke Rachel's shoulders.

Rachel smiled. "Yes," she nodded, "But I knew it wasn't for the right reasons. We're pretty _new_, Santana. And though I love you _so much_…" Lifting on her tiptoes to press another kiss against Santana's lips, Rachel dropped back, waiting a beat until she pulled Santana into a tight, desperate hug, "And though I don't doubt we'll get married some day, we don't need to do this _now_."

Santana shook in her grasp. "Can…" she gasped, burying her head into Rachel's neck, "Can I just give you the ring, still?"

"As a promise ring?" Rachel smiled, squeezing her.

Santana let out a breathy, surrendering laugh. "Sure…" she kissed Rachel's neck, teeth grazing along her skin, "Sure. Whatever."


	98. Chapter 98

**A/N: **Okay, so this was supposed to be _really_ cracky and full of bad fanfic clichés, but… It turned out to be_ not_ so cracky because apparently I can't let myself even seriously attempt to completely crackify anything.

* * *

"Marry me."

"...We aren't even dating...?"

"So what. I love you. Marry me."

"Santana. You _just _broke up with Brittany, and may I remind you I'm already engaged to _Finn_?"

"Seriously? He's stupid and untalented, going to _completely_ hold you back from New York, and would completely smother you if he so much tried to get onto you to start having sex."

"Not that it's any of your business, but we've already had sex."

"Excuse me while I _vomit_. Oh god. That's... How _were _those five seconds? All you thought it would be?"

"I'm certainly not going to discuss that with you."

"You don't have to. I already know, remember? I'm the one who took his v-card."

_"__Santana_."

_"__Rachel_. Come on. I'm a girl. First rule of being a girl is that I _know _how to touch other girls. So. Marry me."

_"__No_, I'm _not_ going to marry you. You are being _incredibly _ridiculous. And you have _never _expressed _any _interest in me, sexually or... _Matrimonially_."

"Lady Gaga week. Britney Spears week. That one time you came to school in Tina's clothes - that was different enough that it was appealing. _We Found Love_. _So Emotional_. Last Wednesday. Now. Do I need to go on?"

"You find me sexually attractive _now_?"

"I _just _asked you to marry me."

"No, no. No. Stop. Stop this. I understand, as cruel as it is, that you enjoy playing with me and my self esteem, but I am asking, if you have _any _belief in the tentative friendship I thought we had struck up after… _So Emotional_… That you turn and walk away and we can forget about this entirely and go on enjoying what little we have left of our senior year."

"Nuh uh. _You_ stop. I'm serious."

"You _honestly_ expect me to _just_… Take it that you _love_ me and want to spend the _rest of your life_ with me? _No_. You're playing me, and I do _not_ appreciate it. Now if you excuse me, I need to get to Economics."

"You'll say yes, Berry!"

"You can't tell me what I will or will not do. _Lopez_."

"Oh, sure I'll tell you what to do. But you'll decide on your own to say yes or no. And Rachel? You'll say yes."

"It's in your best interests to stop now."

"What? Like you think me calling across the hall'll stop me from convincing you to marry me? Oh look. It _didn't_."

"You're _incorrigible_!"

"And you're late for class."

"…_Santana_!"


	99. Chapter 99

Rachel was walking down the hall when a flash of red and white caught her attention. Oh great, she rolled her eyes, trying to speed up; she didn't need to experience Santana's brand of taunts that morning. She'd had a good morning, and she wanted to hold on to that feeling.

But fate had other plans.

"Hobbit!" was hollered down the hall, and, stopping, taking a deep breath, and affixing a pleasant expression on her face, Rachel turned on her heel. "Yes, Santana? How may I help you?"

"Pshh. You? Help me? As if. You couldn't help _anyone _with _anything _even if your life depended on it. No." Sauntering up to Rachel, Santana held up a sheet of paper. She smirked. "Congratulations."

Ignoring the paper in favor of looking at the too smug girl, Rachel sighed. "Congratulations on what?" Yes, what was Santana going on about now?

"On your being found. So? Who gets the reward?"

That made Rachel frown. "I'm sorry, but you're not expressing yourself in such a way that full thoughts are coming through."

Sighing judgmentally, Santana shook the paper and turned it back to face herself. As if ticking off a list, she started reading out loud, "Small, brown in color, large nose, very yappy, and the tendency to exhibit nervous habits up to and including excessive drool and incontinence..." She looked up. "Yup, that's you."

_What_? Going to yank the paper out of Santana' hand, Santana easily dodged her. "Oh, wait, maybe you're still lost. I don't see a collar. Just the Finn necklace. So if I return you to him, does that mean I get the fifty dollars?" She paused, a fake surprised expression making her mouth and eyes open wide, "No, wait, _I'm sorry_, he doesn't want you anymore, does he?"

"Give me that," Rachel tried another lunge, trying to keep her growing anger and hurt clamped down, "I would - I would appreciate it if you would please - "

"Please what? Let you see your latest headshot?" Looking at the paper again, Santana smiled mockingly and, instead of relinquishing it outright, did a smooth slide closer, holding it up next to Rachel's face, her phone suddenly in her other hand, snapping a quick pic. Then, with a few taps and flicks of her thumb, she crumpled the paper and dropped it at Rachel's feet, striding away with loud, proud laughter.

Ignoring the vibration of her phone to kneel and pick the paper up, Rachel slowly opened it. Her heart pounding so hard her head was beginning to feel faint, instant tears welled up as Rachel realized she was looking at a missing poster for a Yorkshire terrier. Crumpling the paper back up and clenching it tightly in her fist, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. As the text from Santana loaded, she began to hear the laughter and jeers erupting around her, flinching as sharp barks entered the din.

The tears started to fall as soon as the text finished, confirming her overwhelming fears, and Rachel sprinted towards the nearest bathroom. Ten minutes, she promised herself, heading for the farthest away stall, trying to breathe in deeply and stop the building sobs, she'd give herself ten minutes to cry and hurt before she ventured back out with her head held high. No matter whatever it was Santana hoped to have happened, Rachel would be strong. No matter whatever Santana caused to end up happening, Rachel would be strong.

No matter how horrible her good morning now was, she'd be strong.


	100. Chapter 100

**A/N: **This is Santinchel (Santana/Tina/Rachel) inspired by discussions and gif sets and the like on tumblr. Oh, and Happy 100th Scrap, everyone~ :D

* * *

"No, no, this is all _wrong_," Tina shot to her feet, shaking her head while her hands worried at her waist.

"Oh god, don't have a Rachel meltdown," Santana sat up, running a hand through her hair, sighing harshly. She tilted her head, "Are you going to start spouting Chinese or Korean or whatever? I want to know so I can go ahead and tune it out until you're done if you are."

Rachel put her hand on Santana's shoulder, pressing on it hard as she stood up, "Santana, quiet."

Throwing her hand up, Santana rolled her eyes and sat back, stretching her legs out in front of her and arranging her Cheerio skirt over her thighs.

"Thank you." Turning, Rachel slowly walked up to Tina, hands out. "Tina," she whispered, smiling hesitantly, "Tina, can you please look at me?"

Tina shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body. "I don't know what's going on," she whispered, eyes barely meeting Rachel's before snapping away again.

Biting her lower lip, Rachel slowly put her hand out; when Tina only flinched but didn't protest as her palm settled on her upper arm, Rachel slowly slid herself around to face the other girl. "Believe it or not," she shrugged her shoulders, "San and I don't really know what's going on, either. We just…" Her lips twitched up, "Feel."

"Feel?" Eyes searching Rachel's, Tina swallowed.

Santana stood up. "For you," she walked over, moving around Tina's other side to join Rachel in front of her. Brushing the tips of her fingers down Tina's other arm, her smirk deepened when that made her shiver.

Tina closed her eyes.

"Do you feel anything… For us?" Rachel asked.

"I already made out with you guys," Tina laughed humorlessly, looking up again, "Isn't that something?"

"Maybe." Santana shrugged. "Maybe not. We're hot. You're curious. It's up to you if you want to go any further."

Tina's eyes slipped from Santana's to Rachel's. Her lips parted.

Rachel nodded. "Your choice," she smiled, curling her hand around Tina's arm, squeezing it before letting go.

"My choice." Tina pulled her hands up, staring at her palms. Then, slowly, slowly, she reached out, weakly wrapping her hands around Rachel and Santana's before they both grinned and pulled Tina forward, arms sliding around her and each other.

"You made the right choice," Santana grinned, lips grazing along Tina's ear, laughing huskily at the moan she made when Rachel drew her into a kiss, "The very, _very_ right choice."


	101. Chapter 101

**A/N: **Yup, another Santinchel, prompted by itsacurse. Thanks!

* * *

"No, no, I _told _you," Tina smiled widely as she fell back onto the bed, rolling over to join Rachel in staring up at her bedroom ceiling, "Santana would hate blue even more. Tell me." She pushed up on her elbow, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend, "How often do you see her in blue?"

Rachel pursed her lips. "Other than her trademark striped dress… Very rarely. Okay!" She sat up, leaning over to kiss Tina soundly, grinning into it, "Blue it is."

"Blue is what?" Santana asked distractedly, strolling out from the bathroom in her tank top and panties, brushing her wet hair with Rachel's hairbrush. Walking over to the mirror, she finally noticed what Tina and Rachel were doing. "Really?" she smirked, turning around and setting the brush down onto the dresser before propping her hands on her hips, "You can't even wait for the amount of time it took me to shower? Which, I might add, you both missed out on."

Untangling her fingers from Rachel's hair, Tina pushed herself up. "Well?" she licked her lips, giggling when Rachel started pressing kisses into her neck, wrapping her arms around her neck, "Are you just going to stand there or join us – _Rache_! that tickles! – join us?"

Shaking her head, a hungry look taking over her face, Santana stalked forward and smoothly slid onto the bed. Lunging at Tina, she locked her arms around her waist and pushed her back and away from Rachel, laughing triumphantly when she splayed back. "_San_," Tina gasped, "Rachel was busy!"

"Yeah well, me an' Rachel," Santana reached out, pulling Rachel closer, exchanging a quick greeting kiss with her, "Are going to focus on _you_. It's _your_ night, remember?"

Rachel nodded, smiling. "Yes," she agreed, "That's right. And it's fine. I _know_…" she started pushing Tina's shirt up as Santana leaned down to start kissing her, "How much you love when we. Focus. Completely. On. _You_."

"Mmm… Don't even try resisting," Santana purred, meeting her eyes directly.

"Yeah," Tina moaned, arching her back, "Don't really want to."


	102. Chapter 102

**A/N: **Don't take this seriously. XD

* * *

Stomping into Santana's bedroom, Rachel pinned Santana to her bed with her glare. "I can't _believe_ you, Santana! Do you _love_ me or _not_?" she hissed.

Santana stared at her with panic on her face. "_No_," she exclaimed, shaking her head.

Rachel's mouth dropped open, her face instantly crumpling. "W-what?" she stuttered in a breaking whisper, flinching back, "You don't love me?"

"Yes!" Standing up from her chair, Santana surged forward, hands coming up to grip Rachel's arms tightly, "I _don't _love you, Rachel." Face scrunching in frustration, she shook Rachel when she started crying, "Cry! Rache! Cry! I meant it!"

Hands pushing against Santana's chest to try and get away, Rachel clenched her eyes shut, having to stop when her sobs took her breath away, hunching over as Santana's arms came up to hold her. "That was _nothing_?" she demanded hoarsely, fingers digging into Santana's shirt, "_Nothing_? Everything you said... _Last night_?"

Santana crushed Rachel to her. "Rachel. _Rache_. Of course it was nothing!" Then, abruptly, growling, she pushed her away, nodding and stalking around in a tight circle. "_Rachel_," she snapped, whirling back around, scowling and desperate and scary, "Listen to me! I only speak truth!"

Sniffling, Rachel stared at her, dashing the palm of her hand against her eyes to try and stem the flow of tears still trickling down her face. "Santana?" Vulnerable and teetering on the edge of anger, Rachel continued, "What are… Why are you talking to me like this?" She closed her eyes, turning her head away, "Don't you have any respect for me at _all_?"

"Of course _n_ – " Catching herself, Santana's voice suddenly became louder, excited. "Rachel. _Rachel_." Footsteps strode forward, and Santana's hands were suddenly cradling her face, her thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Rachel." Sounding close to tears herself, pure affection shining through husky frustration, Santana urged her chin up, "Don't look at me. And please go. I don't want you to stay. I don't love you. Hate me. I can explain." Pausing, Santana cautiously whispered as tears started dripping down her cheeks, "My name… Is… _Not_ Santana. I _don't _love you. _Don't_ believe me, I know what's going on. I do. I _do_." Santana was sobbing now, hands trembling, her tears only increasing when Rachel slowly wrapped her arms around her.

Letting Santana's forehead rest against her own, Rachel rubbed her hands up and down her back, mind racing. "…Oh. Oh my _god_," she froze, breathing out disbelievingly, faintly, arms tightening around Santana, "Why didn't I _see_?

"No, no," she shook her head, "Santana, I'm sorry. I think I know…" She sighed deeply, sorrowfully, brushing her lips against Santana's when she looked up, trying to smile supportively at her, "I think I know what's going on."

Santana stared at her, eyes briefly fluttering closed when she kissed Rachel back before frowning in confusion, eyebrows encroaching on each other with a building glare, "Don't tell me?"

Rachel nodded. "_First_," she breathed in raggedly, it now her turn to wipe Santana's tears away, "I am _so_ sorry. I didn't know this was going to happen."

"_Rachel_."

Taking Santana's hand, Rachel stepped back to lead Santana to her bed. "Obviously," she swallowed, taking a seat next to Santana after pushing her down, "You're something special to me. And you _will_ be, for a long, long time. _Because_." One corner of her lips turned up, and she started sliding her fingers along Santana's, shifting closer to kiss Santana again, "It seems like the Berry family's gremlin's decided to accept and _especially _focus on you."


	103. Chapter 103

**A/N: **This chapter is related to the last one. And if you haven't figured it out, no, I'm not going to tell you. What's the fun if I explain everything? (And honestly, I thought it was obvious.) It should be extra-obvious after this chapter, anyway. :}

* * *

Sitting down next to Rachel at the lunch table, Santana picked her hand up and smiled at her, "I don't want to go to the carnival with you tomorrow."

Grinning widely, Rachel practically squealed, dropping her fork. "_Santana_. I'd _love_ to go!" She hugged the other girl tightly, "Thank you!"

Santana grinned back, squeezing her. "I'm _horrible _at the mini-games, so there's no way I'll be able to win you a stuffed animal," she promised.

"I'm not surprised, but that's still sweet of you." Rachel laced their hands together, "When did you want to go?"

"I'd love to go when it gets dark, so two P.M. wouldn't work."

Rachel frowned in disappointment, shaking her head, "No, I'm sorry, that's a bit too early. I promised my dads I'd go to lunch with them tomorrow." She poked Santana's side, laughing coyly, "They're wanting some fathers-daughter time, and it's been a while since I gave them some. You're too _distracting_, you know…"

Blinking in fake shock, Santana bumped their shoulders together. "_I'm_ totally distracting! _You're_ the completely unremarkable one." She smiled, leaning in to softly brush her lips across her girlfriend's, voice dropping, "But that's not okay, I blame them. You're _horrible_."

Kissing her back, Rachel smiled widely, making a happy noise. "I love you too, Santana." She thought for a second. "So… How about… Four? Would that work?"

Santana slowly shook her head, lips curling up, "Not at all. Four would be incredibly hard to make." Rapping her knuckles on the table, she stood up, pointing at Rachel, "Don't expect me to pick you up."

"I can't wait!" Catching her hand, Rachel beamed up at her, "You always have the best date ideas."

Her free hand gently pushing hair behind Rachel's ear, Santana bent down to kiss her again, "Anything to make you unhappy." Pulling back just enough to smirk impishly at her, she raised an eyebrow, "Promise me we won'ts get our mack on in the Ferris Wheel?"

Pink rose on Rachel's face, but she nodded. "Of course," she smiled, patting Santana's thigh, "But, you should probably go now before Sue gets impatient." Lifting her chin, she demanded another kiss, "_Mmm_… I love you."

Still smirking, Santana rolled her eyes, "Keep talking, hun." Then, dropping a kiss to Rachel's cheek, she walked off with a, "…But I hate you too."

Rachel watched her go. "She's surprisingly romantic, isn't she?" she smiled, turning to her friends and picking up her fork, "I'm so lucky to have her."

Looking back and forth between each other, the rest of New Directions could only make incredulous expressions. "But… That wasn't romantic at _all_," Kurt protested.

"_Yeah_," Puck chimed in, "The _fuck_?"

"Oh, and bring your money! I'm not going to pay for _anything_," Santana's voice called out from the cafeteria doors.

Rachel grinned. "See?" she ignored everyone else, waving at her girlfriend, "Romantic."


	104. Chapter 104

"Damn, Berry," Santana clucked her tongue against the top of her mouth, "Not leavin' any imagination in that dress, huh? Gotten' tired of pretending to be the awkward virginal girl?"

Rolling her eyes, Rachel turned in her seat. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she arched an eyebrow, meeting Santana's gaze head on.

Watching this exchange, finger tapping against her lower lip, Brittany added it to the file in her head entitled _Santana and Rachel totally want to have sex with each other_. It was getting even more obvious with each passing week, Santana's comments blunter while Rachel's reactions supporting a lack of _real _protest.

"Why would I want to hear about your sexual proclivities?" Santana answered snidely, leaning forward, eyes sweeping up and down Rachel's body, "Since I doubt you've even _heard _the sound of your voice in orgasm."

Rachel's lower lip was sucked into her mouth. "You seem awfully preoccupied with me, Santana," she offered sickeningly sweet, hands clasping in her lap, "If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were interested in me."

"Really." Tilting her head, tongue flicking out to lick her lips, Santana uncrossed and crossed her legs again as she shifted in her seat to better face the other girl, "Just because I'm a lesbian does _not _mean I find anything with tits and ass attractive. Take Finnocence for example." Smirking, Santana gave the boy sitting two seats away from her a taunting look, "He has jiggly man-boobs and yet I, for _some reason_, am completely turned off by him."

Rachel stared at her. "Please, Santana," the 'sweet' smile was back on her face, "Finn and I are in _completely_ different spectrums of what you _could_, _feasibly_, find attractive." Tossing her hair back, she turned back to the front of the class, fingers tapping on her thigh as a self-satisfied smile turned the corners of her lips up.

Taking the chance to lean over, Brittany whispered directly into Santana's ear, "So when are you going to sleep with her?"

"_What_?" Santana spluttered, her hand pushing against Brittany's shoulder to put space between them, "What the hell are you saying?"

Brittany frowned. "San," she gave her friend an exasperated look, "You _want _Rachel. She _wants _you back. Why haven't you gone _after _her yet?"

Santana's eyes widened. Flicking her gaze back and forth the choir room, she lowered her voice, hissing, "I don't know what the hell it is you are smoking, B, but if it makes you think that I have _any _interest in the hobbit, then you should get your money back. Because? Berry?" She laughed shortly, "_Totally _unwantable."

Letting out a giant breath of air, Brittany gave her friend the best disappointed look she could, shaking her head and scooting her chair back to its original position. Stubborn. That's what the two girls were. Why deny what was _obviously_ going on?


	105. Chapter 105

**A/N:** A drunken drabble prompt fill for theweeping-angels, who gave me carte blanche with the word conglomeration. Thanks!

* * *

Conglomeration. A gathering of like-minded individuals. Though Rachel knew that wasn't completely correct, she was willing to go along with the idea. Conglomeration was many things, combined. Like glee itself. Kids from all parts of the popularity ladder. Kids working together. Kids like her. Kids like everyone else in the club. They all added a flavor to the overall experience that was the New Directions.

And, sitting on the edge of the auditorium stage, Rachel watched as most of the New Directions took their leave. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she waited. _One person_, she knew, would stay. Would hang back.

But who would that be?

Finn was already striding out, tying to catch up to Puck and Sam. Sugar and Rory were taking turns pushing Artie up the ramp, Tina tugging on Quinn's sleeve as they laughed about something, Mike chatting with Brittany as they crossed the gym doors' threshold. Mr. Schuester, caught up in Miss Pillsbury and proving Sue Sylvester wrong by wrangling Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine into a rather uncomfortable looking argument, Rachel sat up as she realized one person was taking their sweet time gathering up their things. Banging her heels into the sides of the stage, Rachel barely let herself watch the proceedings.

Better, she reasoned, close her eyes and be surprised.

And, within five minutes, as she waited breathlessly, her knuckles hard against the roughness of the stage, mostly silence hit her ears. Was… She wondered, was anyone still there, waiting and ready for _her_?

As she went to open her eyes, hot palms suddenly slid over them, two sharp knees digging into her back. "No…" an unrecognizable voice husked, "Keep those eyes closed."

Rachel swallowed. "Why?" she asked, her hands coming up to cover the other's, "Are you ashamed?"

"Please," the voice deepened, full lips brushing along Rachel's ear, "You know as well as I do what this means."

Rachel's heart thumped. Sliding her fingers along the person's, she sat up, leaning back, a strong body providing something to lean against. "Really?" she whispered, smiling, head falling back to rest against a strong shoulder, "I've only wondered if you were ready."

A strong hand rubbed up and down Rachel's waist, another hand cupping her other hip. Hot breath tickled her ear. "I wouldn't be here," Santana whispered, plump lips brushing along Rachel's jaw, turning her head to search for her mouth proper, "If I didn't think _you _were ready."

Her lips tugging up, Rachel happily accepted Santana's attention. Melting into Santana's mouth, she pushed her hands up, tangling into the tight ponytail and pulling it free, Rachel shifted on her knees. "Please," it was her turn to whisper, opening her eyes to stare into Santana's, "_You're_ the one I've waited on."

Chuckling, Santana enfolded Rachel's body close into hers. "Fine," she breathed into Rachel's ear, "What now?"

Rachel smiled. "_Now_," she enthused, rubbing her nose against Santana's, sparkling eyes meeting Santana's, "You and I get to know each other?"

Santana matched her smile. "That's acceptable," she dipped her head, meeting Rachel's lips kiss for kiss, body hot and thrumming with energy, fingers curling into holding her near, "And, honestly, everything else be damned, I can't wait for when we…" She breathed in deeply, teeth nipping Rachel's lip, "_Officially _make this real." Smiling, she kissed Rachel deeply, "I'm tired of pretending to hate you."

"Glad to hear that," Rachel grinned, kissing her back, "Because honestly? I'm tired of hating you for things not really your fault."

Chuckling, Santana shook her head. "Good," she murmured, leaning back and pulling Rachel on top of her, smiling up at her and so, _so _beautiful, "We have somewhere to start."


	106. Chapter 106

**A/N: **My first Faberrypez for bananaofrandomess. Thanks!

* * *

Snuggling into Santana's side, Rachel took a deep breath. "I know…" she started, clasping Santana's hand to her chest, "How you look at Quinn."

"_What_?" Santana protested, pulling Rachel tighter into her, "You're talking nonsense."

"I am _not_." Sighing, Rachel propped herself up onto her elbow, giving Santana a pointed glare. "I'm only saying this because I look at her as well."

Santana swallowed. "Rache…" she started, shutting her eyes and pulling Rachel into her chest, throat working, "I don't want to talk about this. Aren't… Aren't I _enough_?"

"For me?" Rachel smiled sadly, lips turning up and sliding along Santana's upper chest, "Yes, you are. But me…?" Her fingers slid along Santana's collarbone, moving up to stroke her cheek, "I'm not enough for you. So…" She sighed, pushing a serious look onto her face, "If you n-need Quinn… I'll learn how to need her too."


	107. Chapter 107

**A/N: **Word prompt from pocketsuperman; defenestration. Thanks!

* * *

The crashing, shattering noise of breaking glass preceded the defenestration of Santana Lopez.

"_Santana_!" Rachel screamed, struggling against the hands holding her back, "_Santanaaaaaaaaa_!" Dropping to her knees, forcing her captors to let her go, she started sobbing, slumping to the floor. "No, no. _Santana_…"

"…_Cut_!"

Rachel stopped crying. Accepting the hand up from Minion #1, she walked over to the now broken window. "Santana?" she grinned, brushing enough sugar glass away to prop her palms on the frame so she could lean out, "Having fun down there?"

From where she was chilling on her back on the stunt padding, Santana waved. "The best! You should try it!"

Shaking her head, Rachel made a face at her. "No thanks. We still on for dinner?"

Santana sat up. "Wouldn't miss it," she called up, scooting over to where there was a ladder waiting for her, "I can't wait to prove to you I'm alive so we's can burn off your leftover terror."


	108. Chapter 108

**A/N: **Word prompt from guyanarose; scrilla. Thanks!

* * *

"And _that_, newbie bitches, is how you play poker!" Santana cackled, scooping up the large pile of bills mostly made up of Finn and Puck and Mike's allowances. "Congratulations, you have just bought me my next pair of shoes."

"But…" Finn whispered, staring sightlessly down at the poker table, "That's my allowance for the whole _month_…"

"And that's my booze money," Puck grunted, throwing his hand into the air, the cards fluttering down.

Mike swallowed. "Oh god," he stammered, "Tina's going to _kill_ me. I promised her I was going to take her to Cincinnati this weekend."

Santana smirked. Downing her glass of rum, she rose from the table. "Should'a thought of that before you bet your _all important _scrilla against me. And now? It's not my problem." Throwing her hand up in an insolent wave, waggling her fingers, she walked off to meet Rachel in the kitchen. Once there, she immediately wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, dropping a kiss to the back of her neck. "Guess whose bluff worked?" she grinned.

Shivering, Rachel turned her head. "Told you," she smiled, eyes sparkling, "The Barbra Method _always_ works."


	109. Chapter 109

**A/N: **Word prompt from mjpurser; xenomorph. Thanks!

* * *

"Alien? _Again_?" Sighing, Santana shook her head before plopping down onto the couch of the Berry's living room.

Immediately picking up Santana's arm and snuggling under it, wrapping it around her waist, Rachel grinned at the TV. "It's my choice tonight, remember? And tonight..." She shifted up, giving Santana a quick kiss, "I'm feeling like snuggling up to you while being scared by the xenomorphs."

"_Xeno_ - ?" Santana rolled her eyes, "Of course." She pushed her legs up, reclining back on the couch and settling Rachel between them. Resting her hands on Rachel's stomach, she kissed the side of her forehead, drinking in the feeling of her small girlfriend on her. "As long as you don't mind passing me the popcorn and soda, I'm in."

"Because you get your Rachel Berry cuddles?" Rachel smiled up at her, relaxing and lacing one of Santana's hands with her own. She pressed play.

Santana grinned. "Right," she offered agreeably, squeezing Rachel's hand, "Only second to Rachel Berry orgasms."

That made Rachel give out a shocked laugh and turn around, glaring playfully at her girlfriend, pulling her into a deep, melting kiss. "We're really not going to watch too much of the movie are we?" Santana chuckled, pulling Rachel's tongue into her mouth.

Moving back enough to suck in a deep breath, Rachel shook her head. "Probably not," she smirked, sitting back to pull her tank top off and grab Santana's hands, drawing them up to her bra-clad breasts.

Santana stared at Rachel's chest, lips curling up. "Awesome."


	110. Chapter 110

**A/N: **Spontaneous fic inspired by a random reblog on tumblr of cookysncream's, "I love you, but I'm done chasing you."

* * *

"I love you, but I'm done chasing you."

Scoffing, Santana went back to applying her lip gloss, not even bothering to look at the girl standing in the middle of her bedroom in the mirror. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're here, aren't you?"

Rachel swallowed, averting her eyes so she wouldn't start crying. "Where is _here_?"

"Uhm... My bedroom. You know. The place where we just had _sex_?"

"I thought it was making love." Rachel's voice wavered. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. "You said it was... You said it was making love."

That made Santana pause. Capping her lip gloss, her gaze barely skittered across Rachel's reflection before she hardened her expression again and reached for her mascara. "I don't remember that."

Rachel recoiled physically. "You said," her voice rose, becoming a louder, harsher whisper, "You said you'd never _felt_ like this before. With _me_. An hour ago! Was that a _lie_?"

"_What do you want me to say?_" Her hand crashing down to bash against the counter, Santana turned her head just enough to catch Rachel's form. "_Rachel_? What do you _want _from me?"

"I want _you_!" Rachel practically screamed, her fists pounding into her thighs as the tears started to flow down her cheeks, "I want the you who _loves me_. Who _tells me_ she loves me.

"But I'm not going to get her." Slumping back, shaking her head, Rachel managed once more to meet Santana's eyes, "I chase, and I chase, _fighting _to get _any _piece of you I can, and - and you know what I get? Nothing." Rachel trembled, her voice barely more than the air that could escape her constricting throat. "Denial. I pry you open to get to the part of you that loves me..." She closed her eyes, "And you slam shut tighter than before. Like it never happened.

"So I'm done. I'm not going to chase you anymore." Pulling her jacket from the chair near Santana's bed, Rachel deflated completely when she realized Santana wasn't going to stop her from leaving, wasn't going to say anything.

But she was wrong. As her hand touched the doorknob, Santana spoke up. "Rachel," she started, her voice brusque and deep and final, "Don't expect _me_ to chase after _you_."

A heartbroken smile turned Rachel's lips up, tears trickling down to meet them. "Don't worry," she pulled the door open, "I don't."


	111. Chapter 111

**A/N: **A quick response fic for the emerging Artie/Rachel bro-ship on tumblr. :D

* * *

The first night Artie had come over and Rachel had tried to carry him down the stairs into her basement/theatre room, it had been a disaster. Artie, as for how small he looked, was still male, and actually quite muscular, and Rachel had pretty quickly fallen under his body weight. Landing on her butt and sliding down a couple of steps to end up with numerous carpet burns and a laughing teenage boy splayed over her legs, she'd at least had the grace to make sure Artie hadn't been hurt after determinedly finishing carrying him down while deciding the living room would be the better destination for the nights after. At least, when it was time for Artie to go home, she'd let her father bring him upstairs.

But that was a couple of months ago, and now they'd gotten their routine down. Camping out in front of the living room TV, popcorn and soda always within arm reach on the coffee table and going series by series, they were making their way through Dr. Who. Inevitably, after spending at least a couple of hours only talking about the TV show and general glee club business, one or the other would bring up the ice cream chilling in Rachel's freezer. Dairy-free vanilla for Rachel and chocolate mint chip for Artie, the two teenagers would allow themselves a couple of minutes to exchange commiserations about their love lives and the girls they pined for.

And then, even when they would turn the TV series back on, it wasn't out of the ordinary that more comments would slip out around spoonfuls of ice cream. Eventually, Rachel would squeeze Artie's arm, Artie would pat Rachel's knee, and without really saying anything, Rachel would end up under his arm, cuddled up to his chest.

"I just..." she would sigh, looking down into her ice cream carton, "It's Santana. How could I...?"

Nodding, Artie would swallow his bite and shrug. "I know. How could I with Brittany?"

Rachel would make a face, then announce with a grin, "They're totally missing out."

"On us? Shyah, girl! We're _amazing_."

Laughing, sighing, and exchanging heavy looks, they'd settle in, the night progressing with much of the same until it was time for Artie to leave. Trading quiet words between classes while they watched Santana and Brittany walk past, they had to wait for the next weekend before they could do it again. Rachel would pick up the ice cream, Artie would bring the DVDs, and another night of companionship would give each the strength to face another week of aching, unrequited love.


	112. Chapter 112

**A/N: **Quick drabble inspired by a quote I saw on tumblr, courtesy of r2-dbag.

* * *

"If you do decide to enter my life again, please realize that you did, in fact, leave it."

* * *

Rachel can't be bothered with the heavy feeling in her stomach. It's their last play through before the show opens, and since she's playing double duty as twins, it's extra imperative that she be paying attention.

Still, the direction of where her phone is stashed in her bag behind the stage is permanently in the back of her mind. There, waiting for her, is the message she had dreaded-hoped-feared-ached to get.

She doesn't know if her heart is going to break again if she reads the message. She doesn't even know if it's a real message or a drunken mistake. She doesn't know what Santana wants, period.

Seven months, she thinks, expertly making her mark and bursting into song, seven months with nothing. Pulling as much emotion into her voice as she can, she just as professionally pushes the tears not from her performance away.

She has a play to do. Santana can wait.

No.

Santana _has _to wait. _Deserves_ to wait.

She's the one who left. She's the one who walked away and Rachel, letting her costar's arms wrap around her, beaming love up at him, can only repeat to herself that she's stronger than she used to be. She doesn't have to let her back in.

Santana left.

Let her stay away.

Forever, forever away.

Rachel has a play to do.

* * *

Still, hours later as the play through is over, Rachel's finger trembles as she opens the text.

_I want to see you._

Tearing up, Rachel hits respond. There's no point in lying to herself. No matter how many times Santana walked in and out of her life, Rachel would let her.

_When? _she types, shaking, telling herself to stop, to drop it, to erase the message. Her show is opening tomorrow. She shouldn't be doing this.

But, as her phone vibrates with an answer, Rachel already knows she's lost. She'll see Santana. She'll probably end up sleeping with her, and she'll probably end up getting a sob story that will only leave her emptier than before. But she'll go. She'll go.

But this time, she stuffs her phone into her pocket, striding out to catch the first cab she can see, this time she'll make Santana understand this is the last time.

Because Santana left her.

And because this time… This time it's Rachel's turn to leave her.


	113. Chapter 113

**A/N: **This is kind of a drabble based off of a message I got about Pieces #367:

_Meeting over the bell peppers, it didn't take long for Hiram Berry and Maribel Lopez to finish the pleasantries and begin discussing the recent increase of time their daughters had been spending with each other._

_"You know," Maribel started not-so-innocently, "I hadn't realized Santana and Rachel were such good friends."_

_"To be honest, neither had I." Adjusting his glasses, Hiram mused, "Is Santana still seeing Brittany?"_

_Maribel picked up a pepper. "Not lately. Finn and Rachel…?"_

_"I'm happy to say 'not lately' as well."_

_Nodding, Maribel finally dropped all pretences. "You think they're…?"_

_"They **have **to be," Hiram practically shouted._

* * *

So here's the message and my kind of drabble response:

_Hey. So, I blame you entirely for the new found hilarity you found in the pezberry fandom. Hiram and Maribel being those parents (like old gossiping latin women, which, trust me that stereotype is truth) who talk about their daughters loves lives or anything, really (sometimes even with them there to add to the laughs).. with no boundaries is an amazing idea. It should totally become a thing in this fandom. -SSA :)_

* * *

Yes! Hiram and Mirabel would _so _be _those _parents that call each other over everything going on in their children's lives.

"Santana was a bit angrier today - is Rachel upset as well?"

"Maribel, what did your daughter do? Rachel's been bouncing around the house like someone proposed - _did Santana propose?_"

"No, no, you should have _seen _it. They were _adorable_. And Rachel? I know your daughter's Jewish, but she completely seems to have embraced my family's traditions as well. I swear, her rendition of _I'll Be Home For Christmas _brought tears to even Santana's abuela's eyes."

"Maribel. I'm sorry, but we're kidnapping your daughter. She's perfect. Do you know what she did when a rather rude and uncouth boy was hassling Rachel? She completely _schooled _him. It was delicious! Now, I don't advocate violence, but, please, don't ground her _too _hard. She's in love with my daughter, and it's admirable how much she'll go to be there for her."

"I am convinced this is it. Santí's finally going to propose. Welcome officially to the Lopez family, Hiram!"

"_They're expecting! Mari! We're going to have a grandbaby! _Oh, I'm so proud of our babies…"

And so on and so forth. :D

Oh! And the obligatory 'they've broken up and we must _do _something about it' exchange as well.


	114. Chapter 114

**A/N: **This is what happens when I get impatient waiting for ApathyEmpathy to get finished catching up on our fic so we can continue writing it. XD

* * *

"Shut up," Santana growled into Rachel's ear, hand hot and like an iron band splayed over her abs. Her chest pressed in close, pinning Rachel's side to the locker, the girl took the opportunity to nuzzle her nose along Rachel's jaw. "Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"

"I'm popular," Rachel found herself answering, voice breathier than she liked it, "So no one dares." She could feel the smile that elicited against her cheek as Santana's lips curled up.

"That's convenient."

Rachel nodded, catching her breath when Santana was suddenly _there_, suddenly hovering over her lips. Her eyes had to work to stay open as a tongue darted out to lick the lips she'd be kissing if Santana was a fraction of an inch closer. She wondered what it would be like with Santana's glasses. "It is."

A low chuckle ghosted across her lips. "Then tell me, Miss Popular Rachel Berry, how would people react to seeing you right. Now?"

"They'd - " But Rachel didn't finish her thought. Instead, screaming with rampant pent up teenage bisexual unresolved sexual tension, she grabbed Santana's head and slammed their mouths together.

And then they banged.

The end.


	115. Chapter 115

**A/N: **Another random tumblr drabble inspired by a graphic of the first line.

* * *

"Fine. I fucking need you, okay?"

* * *

Santana's eyes are red as she says this, the lines around her mouth tightening. "I need you, and it's killing me that I can't have you."

"Santana…"

"No. No." Throat working, Santana's eyes flick away, body closing in on itself. The red deepens around her eyes as one tear trails down that she quickly wipes away with the pads of her fingers. She shakes her head, voice cracking. "Can't you… Can't you just need me back?"

Silent seconds stretch between them, and Rachel finally blinks, swallowing as her eyes dart around low. One of her hands tightens around her other. When Santana turns sharply, a heartbroken rough exhalation leaving her body, her head snaps up, and she scrambles up. "Santana - _wait_."

Santana flinches. "Why?"

"Because." Rachel slowly reaches out, fingers sliding against the back of Santana's hand and down, tenderly, hesitantly pulling her hand open to lace their fingers together. When Santana turns to look at her, Rachel steps forward to softly wipe away another tear slipping down her cheek. "Because," she repeats, eyes gentle, hopeful, smiling as she's cupping Santana's cheek, "I need you too."


	116. Chapter 116

**A/N:** Drabble for thedisassociation; decorating for the holidays. Thanks! Also, I have much much much in backlog to share on here, but I'm too lazy... It'll get done eventually, though, promise.

* * *

"Hun? Where's the tinsel?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana lowered the stack of Christmas cards she was sorting into _throw away_, _burn_, or _put out on Rachel's crazy holiday mantle for some ungodly reason that probably had to do with impressing guests at how many pointless famous people they knew_. "Why do you care about tinsel? You're _Jewish_ today, aren't you?"

"Jewish _always_," Rachel chided, affectionately flicking the top of her girlfriend's head as she walked past, "Pretending for your great grandmother doesn't count."

"_Fine_. What do you want it for, anyway?" Santana watched Rachel walk around the couch, grinning and tossing aside the cards to open her arms, accepting Rachel's body as she sat down onto her lap.

Rachel kissed her, smiling, "To make you frustrated, of course." She shrugged, looking down at her hands as her smile turned shy, shivering as Santana's hand slipped under her beloved reindeer sweater to gently stroke her waist. "No, I just… Need to make a better list this year. I don't want to get too busy like last year."

Raising an eyebrow, Santana used her free hand to push Rachel's hair behind her ear. "What's different for this year?"

Rachel let out a faux-affronted sound, sliding her arm around Santana's shoulder. "Right. I'm sure it has _nothing _to do with the fact that you _officially_ moved in."

"Officially-shpiffally. Like I wasn't already camped out in your bed every night last year giving you screaming orgasms and so many hickies you single-handedly bought out Mac's cover-up section." Lips turning up, Santana casually laced her hands behind Rachel's back, under her sweater. "Is this about your dads? Though I don't know what _tinsel _has to do with two middle-aged _fairies_. No. Wait." She tilted her head, "I take that back. That _does_ seem to fit."

Lightly slapping Santana's shoulder, Rachel leaned in to kiss her soundly, shaking her head. Happily returning the kiss, lightly sucking on Rachel's lower lip when she pulled away, Santana smirked at her. "Well?"

Rachel's small shoulders lifted again, brown eyes darker with tentativeness. "I just want our apartment to look perfect."

Santana pursed her lips. "Rache. This apartment… _Our _apartment," she smiled, lifting her chin to kiss Rachel softly again, "Doesn't need to be a _Hallmark _apartment to make sure your dads know we're good together. Hell, what if I was an _atheist_? Would you make me decorate even then?"

Rachel frowned at her, eyes moving slightly to the left as she slowly opened her mouth, "Well, if you agreed with me that Christmas was only good for Santa and free gifts and fake holiday cheer with a helpful sampling of economic and personal guilt…?"

Rolling her eyes again, Santana cut her off by pulling her into a firm kiss. "And bling, right?" she let out huskily when she pulled back.

"And bling," Rachel grinned, agreeing, burying her hands in Santana's hair and melting into her, shifting to throw her leg over Santana's to straddle her, "Wonderful, wonderful bling."


	117. Chapter 117

**A/N: **Drunken Drabble for planetcyanide; San blackmails Puck into chauffeuring her and Rachel around for a date, (maybe drive-in?) and Rachel has to constantly make Santana behave in Puck's presence. Thanks! ...I still feel so rusty!

* * *

Digging her fingernails into the back of Santana's hand, Rachel took in a deep breath to cover up the moan she could feel pushing against her throat, her thighs trembling with the effort of not spreading. "_Stop_," she hissed lowly, huskily, teeth skimming across Santana's ear as she leaned in to admonish her directly, "He's _still here_."

"That's the fun of it," Santana's lips curved up against her cheek, kissing their way down to her mouth, fingers stroking the hem of Rachel's skirt.

Rachel's heart jogged in her chest. The air inside Puck's car was suddenly hot and stifling, and she was beginning to become convinced that the soundtrack of the movie over the radio was doing nothing to cover up her heavy breathing. She and Santana were still new to the physical side of their relationship, and every single touch and tease from her girlfriend still sent instant fireworks straight to the center of her nervous system.

However, as soon as Santana's lips met hers, she couldn't stop her mouth from falling open, welcoming her tongue slipping into her mouth.

"Really," Puck spoke up from the driver's seat, munching on the popcorn Santana had grudgingly bought for him when he'd whined that he needed food to keep his sex-shark stamina up for later that night, "It's not like I wouldn't join in."

Rachel froze in the middle of a slipped groan, only Santana's strong grip on the back of her neck keeping her from snapping back.

"I mean," there was a loud burbling drag of soda in the almost-quiet of a lull in action, "Alice's fucking hot. And I _know _she's been lezzing it up with Rain."

_More like Claire_, Rachel's mind couldn't help supplying in the background as she annoyingly found herself melting back into Santana's heated body, trembling with the urge to lean back and pull the girl on top of her.

As if agreeing, Santana nipped her bottom lip, her almost forgotten hand on Rachel's thigh slipping higher.

"Right?" The creaking of plastic heralded Puck twisting around, "You _can't_ tell me – aww, what the hell? Fuck, you should _tell _me when you're starting to get it on."

"Shut up," Santana growled, pulling back just enough to glare at the boy, "What did I tell you? Eyes to _yourself_." After a second, she added, "And hands in plain sight!"

Mouth falling open, dark eyes slightly glinting in the flickering light, Puck grumbled and turned back around. "Yeah, like I won't know what you're doing."

"Don't care," Santana smirked, already kissing Rachel again, leaning harder into her.

Kissing Santana back, Rachel lifted her hand to curl around Santana's arm, pushing against her. "No, _no_," she whispered, sucking in a deep breath, "San, please."

"_Rache_."

Rachel ducked her head, feeling plump lips slide along her cheek and nose and forehead. "Later," she gasped, pressing her forehead into Santana's neck.

"Later." Santana's fingers curled, sharp fingernails slowly dragging along Rachel's thigh. "Why later when you can have _this_," she met the edge of Rachel's underwear, letting out a hot hiss of air, "_Now_? _Fuck_, baby, you're so _hot_."

Rachel's legs snapped shut around her hand, Rachel trying to bite into Santana's shoulder to stop herself from making noise and getting mostly her blouse instead, "_San_…!"

Even trapped, Santana's fingers teased her inner thigh, playing with the elastic of her boy shorts. Her chest pressed against Rachel's body and side rose and fell heavily. "I _swear_ I can feel you," she rasped, "I know you can't tell me you haven't been getting hot, knowing Puck could catch us doing anything…" Her teeth bit into Rachel's ear as she pushed harder against Rachel's hold, fingertips sliding up the front of her underwear "_Naughty_." She let out a low rumble. "_Fuck_, you've already soaked _through_."

Embarrassment, lust, arousal, and panic flared brighter in Rachel's chest. She could barely hear the movie anymore, most of her attention on Santana as the tiny part of her brain assigned to damage-control still focused squarely on Puck. Why… She kissed Santana's neck desperately, her legs opening ever so slightly, hand now barely holding onto Santana's wrist as her arm pulled Santana's upper body harder into her. "San, _please_." She didn't even know what she wanted to say. Her hips juddered. Her chest constricted.

Gunfire splattered in the background, Puck sucking insolently on his soda as he mumbled something about 'lez-bros' and 'it was only _fair_'.

Santana pushed firmly against her, Rachel suddenly so _aware _of how slick she really _was_. Somehow, it still surprised her.

"In the back of Puckerman's car…" Santana whispered, Rachel really only catching every other word as her heart throbbed in her ears, Santana's voice combining with the movie, "Don't you want to come on my fingers?"

Biting into Santana's neck, Rachel weakly tried to push against her again; instead, the sound of her legs sliding along the car seat as she opened herself even more seared into her brain. What… She froze, arm slamming Santana's upper body harder into her as her strong fingers stroked up, against her, what was _happening_?

"Hot. Dirty. Give Puck the greatest wet dream of his _life_?"

"_Santana_!" Rachel rolled her hips, pulling on Santana's shoulder to lift herself, making blindly for Santana's mouth; crashing their mouths together, teeth glancing each other and tongues and lips everywhere, Rachel taloned her hand into Santana's hair, yanking her back _just_ as she pushed under Rachel's underwear, "No, _stop_." She trembled, swallowing, staring into Santana's dark, hooded eyes, "Later. _Later_. I _promise_." She could feel herself melting and pulsing against Santana's hand, "Later." She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Later."

Santana stared at her. Her hand tensing, drawing a quick gasp from Rachel's lips, she finally, slowly pulled back. "Fine," she whispered, licking her lips, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she completely removed her hand from in between Rachel's legs, "I get it."

Pressure Rachel didn't even know was there eased in her chest. "Thank you."

Kissing her, Santana leaned back. "You owe me," she smirked affectionately.

"Thank you." Rachel smiled, repeating herself, appreciating the time to calm herself.

"Yeah," Puck grunted, voice strained and disappointed, sounding like he'd just been kicked in the gut, "Thank you."

"_Shut it_, Puckerman."

"…Do I get to at least watch later?"

Instead of answering, Santana slapped the back of Puck's head.

"Hey, you could have just said no! I still say you owe me!"

Tuning out the argument, Rachel snuggled into Santana's side, appreciating the strength she could leech from her body. Later, her own body hummed, later with her fathers safely away in Cleveland and Puck off duty and… Rachel shivered, still feeling the heat between her legs, far, far away.


	118. Chapter 118

**A/N: **I am not satisfied with this response to a prompt, so have this as an extra as I save the actual prompt for another day~

* * *

"Seriously?" Santana snapped, unhappily watching her marshmallow disappear into the embers of the fire, "This is _not _cool."

"You want mine?" Rachel immediately offered, sidling closer as much as she thought she could get away with.

"Or mine?" Quinn butted in, snapping her still light brown marshmallow in Santana's direction.

Staring at the two girls, Santana let out a breath of air, shaking her head. "Really? No. No. I wants my _own_, okay?"

Adopting a deep pout, Rachel shook her head as she turned back to the fire. "Fine." Her shoulders were tight.

Also pouting, Quinn still managed an unaffected expression as she also turned back to the fire. The firelight reflecting off of her blonde hair, it was obvious she was continually glancing back at Santana as she didn't react to her marshmallow catching fire.

Really, Santana rolled her eyes, enough was enough. "So," she started innocently, not so innocently, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

Immediately, both Quinn and Rachel fell over themselves, chattering non-stop. Barely paying attention to the burbling of noise, Santana leaned over to grab herself another marshmallow; she was determined to at least get _one _self-made s'more out of this trip.

A cool hand suddenly pressed against her thigh. Arching her eyebrows up without giving away what was happening, Santana shifted so Rachel had a better angle. "Almost," she grinned, pulling her marshmallow out to study how brown it was, "Anyone gots the chocolate?"

Dropping the Hersheys against her other leg, Quinn swung her legs around, her side suddenly pressing against Santana's. "That looks good," she offered uselessly.

Biting back her immediate response of 'no _fuck'_, Santana slid her fingers along Rachel's thigh as she reached for the graham crackers. Why not? she grinned, enjoying Rachel's shudder even as she was already doing the same to Quinn as she picked up the chocolate, they were making everything _way _too easy.

Smushing her marshmallow between the chocolate and the graham crackers, Santana still paused before taking a bite. "Do you _mind_?" she asked shortly.

"I – "

"No – "

Stumbling over themselves, Santana rolled her eyes at both girls. As amusing as it was how badly both Quinn and Rachel wanted her, there was still a line. Santana wanted to get her s'mores on. She _deserved _to get her s'mores on. And she needed enough space _to_ get her s'mores on. Just because both Rachel and Quinn – _wanky_ – wanted in on her didn't mean she had to make it easy and give in – wanky _again_ – duh.

Crunching into the delicious treat, Santana slanted her eyes from left to right and left again. Regardless of how _ridiculous _both girls were being, it still was fucking _awesome_. Letting the taste of marshmallow and chocolate and graham crackers explode on her tongue, Santana settled herself back against the dead tree she was sitting on. Well, she told herself, now satisfied with her tasty treat, that night should, hopefully, become even _more_ interesting.


	119. Chapter 119

**A/N: **Prompt for an anon who supplied the first line. Thanks!

* * *

"Has anyone ever told you that you smoke too much?"

"Of course," Santana responded, taking a deep drag of her cigarette. Keeping the smoke in her lungs, she exhaled and dropped the butt, scuffing it out on the concrete without straightening from the railing she had her forearm and elbow on. "What's it to you?"

Tossing her hair to her other shoulder, Rachel stepped up to her side. Her purse clutched in her hands, she gingerly took up a similar posture in short, jerky moves. Catching Santana's amused gaze, she gave her a haughty expression. "It's cold."

"Right." Turning, Santana settled back against the railing, looking back at where both she and Rachel had come from. "Why aren't you back in the party? Don't you have a boyfriend who can warm you up?"

"He's busy." Rachel sighed. Watching the barely-there lights dancing on the water below her, her eyes unfocused to watch the white tendrils leaving her mouth.

"Too busy to warm up his girlfriend?"

Taking note of Santana's scoff, Rachel ignored it. She pulled her chin into her chest. If Santana was aware she wavered into her arm, she didn't show it. "Why do you smoke?"

One of Santana's shoulders rose. "Why do you sing?"

"Not related at _all_."

"Uhn-uhn. Not true. They are." Her hair rustling as she tilted her head in Rachel's direction, Santana idly flicked her lighter in front of her.

Turning her head, Rachel regarded her disbelievingly. "Singing doesn't _hurt _me, Santana."

"Only because no one's snapped and killed you, yet." Sounding amused, Santana stashed her lighter again. "Still cold?"

"No." After a beat, Rachel sighed. "A little."

Santana shrugged off her jacket. "Here. It probably smells smoky, but it shouldn't _hurt _you."

Rachel automatically put her hand up, trying to push it back to the other girl, but Santana continued, and suddenly it was draped around her shoulders. Hearing the low, "You can put your arms through the sleeves if that's not good enough," Rachel blinked up at her, straightening and pulling the lapels closed, the rest of the jacket following. "Thank you," she whispered.

Santana's shoulder rose again. "Count on the lesbian to fill in the lacking shoes of the boyfriend." Retaking her spot on the railing, facing out towards the water again, she stared out into the darkness. "Smoking makes me warm," she murmured. "Doesn't singing do that to you?"

The jacket smelled a little smoky, Santana's perfume and shampoo making up the rest of Rachel's impression. Rachel licked her lips. "It does," she admitted.

"And you can't tell me it's not a habit," Santana smirked at her.

"I never said it wasn't. But… Santana… _Why_ do you smoke?"

"Didn't I already answer that?"

Shaking her head, Rachel glanced back at the well-lit building behind them. Her body unconsciously moved closer to Santana's, and she put her hand out to halt herself, her forearm and hand suddenly naked to the cold again. "You think you… You only think you might have."

Santana's dark eyes slanted towards her. "_Still_ cold?"

A light blush rose on Rachel's cheeks, and she finally slipped her arms into the sleeves, switching her purse from arm to arm. Even more of Santana surrounded her. "Singing," she forged on, closing her eyes at the wavering of her voice, "It makes me happy. Complete. You can't tell me smoking… Cigarettes… _Cigars_..." Her lips curled, remembering a year ago, "Do that for you."

Santana didn't answer right away. "No," she finally answered, voice soft, getting louder as she stood up; taking a step towards Rachel, she slid behind her, hands coming up on either side of Rachel's on the railing, "Smoking can't do that."

"Santana…?"

Settling into her, arms tightening around her as she slid them closer together, Santana's voice smiled. "Told you," she repeated, "Count on the lesbian to fill in the lacking shoes of the boyfriend."


	120. Chapter 120

**A/N: **A DD for an anon, who gave me the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's daughter has an imaginary older friend named Santana. When Rachel first found out about it, she'd barely allowed herself to think about it. Brushing it off, smiling down at little Erica, she'd assumed she'd picked up the name for when Quinn and Brittany or Puck came to visit, nothing more, nothing less.

But as time passed and Erica seemed more and more entrenched in the story of Santana and her exploits, of confronting the evil Lord Ruddingson and the ever oily Shafter, Rachel couldn't help the schisms spreading into life in her mind.

"Erica…" she whispers one evening, tucking the precocious girl in, "Does Santana ever ask…"

Erica snuggles into her blanket. "About what?"

Rachel bites her lip. "Well, about me?"

"Oh, she did," her daughter says in the tone of one who expects more from the person talking to them, "I already _told _you."

"You did?"

"Yes." Smiling at her mother, Erica nods, "Santana wants to know if you're happy."

Stricken, staring down at her, Rachel blinks. "She's…" Her voice stutters, "Here?"

"Right next to you." Already bored with the conversation, Erica rolls onto her side, bringing her stuffed bear up to curl around, yawning, "Duh. G'night, mom."

Rachel's heart pounds. Forcing herself to lean down to kiss Erica's forehead, she smoothes down her unruly brown curls. "Good night, sweetie. Please tell Santana to follow me out."

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Innocent, giving Rachel a smile, Erica relaxes into almost sleep in front of her.

"Right," Rachel whispers. "Santana?" she says slowly, voice barely passing her lips, "Please join me outside." Shivering, fingers rolling into fists at her sides, Rachel doesn't take a breath until she's closing the door to Erica's room. "Santana?" she repeats, feeling stupid and ridiculous and wrong, so _wrong_, "I'm so, _so _sorry."

The lightest of touches suddenly presses against Rachel's forehead, easily written off as air from the conditioner if the touch hadn't slowly traveled down her cheek, ending like soft fingertips against her jaw. "Shh," the air seems to breathe, a tingling feeling spreading out from Rachel's chest, "Everything's as it's meant to be."

"_Santana_?" Rachel chokes, warm tears spilling from her eyes, her hands coming up to her mouth, "Santana..."

"Erica's beautiful," the voice, so achingly familiar and new at the same time blows across her ear, so easily a figment of Rachel's imagination, "And so are you."

Rachel whimpers. "Santana?" she tries again, taking a step forward as the warmth leaves her face, the awareness slipping away, "Santana, _please_."

But nothing more happens, the presence gone. Breaking down, her husband finds her minutes later with her hands crushed to her chest, Santana's name on her lips, and years of regret streaming down her face. Rachel can only bury herself into his arms, taking strength from him. "It's fine," she manages, feeling safe and taken care of, "Just thoughts of an old friend."

An old friend who slowly fades from Erica's mind as the years pass just as easily as she'd first appeared.

An old friend who Rachel never ever forgets.

But perhaps most bittersweet of all, an old friend who never goes away completely.


	121. Chapter 121

**A/N: **DD prompt for an anon who gave me the first line. Thanks!

* * *

"Don't put that there!"

Rearing back in a mixture of surprise and real alarm, Rachel swiveled on one foot. "I'm… Sorry?" she asked, curling the book she'd picked up off of Santana's floor into her stomach. When Santana didn't answer, Rachel tried again, "It's just a book… On your desk…?"

A frown moved across Santana's face. Almost as if she was caught off guard, she blinked, padding further into her room. "It's alright," she offered shortly, taking the book from Rachel's hand and pressing a bottle of water into her now empty palm, "I'm just… A bit particular."

"I wouldn't have guessed." Adopting a not-too-serious tone, Rachel unscrewed her water, taking a sip. "Are you ready to practice our song now?"

"If you're ready to admit I should take the lead on it."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. She didn't appreciate the smug grin Santana was aiming in her direction. Watching her sliding the book onto the bookcase next to her bed, she waited for Santana to turn in her direction again. "Santana, do you have a logical reason you should take the lead?"

"Of course." Taking a seat on her bed and crossing her legs, hands resting on her upper knee, Santana gazed calmly at her. "How often do you take the lead in glee club?"

"Whenever I feel I would benefit the song and the overall experience more than anyone else," Rachel answered immediately.

One of Santana's eyebrows raised. "Right," she nodded, "And how often do I?"

Rachel stared at her. "Valerie, This Boy is Mine, and…"

"And…?"

Frowning, Rachel ignored her. "Trouty Mouth, So Emotional…"

Santana snorted. "Right. Good recall, there." Shifting, taking a sip of her own water bottle, the girl smirked at her. "You want our performance to make an impression? Let me lead."

Rachel crossed her arms. Opening her mouth, immediately ready to refute her, she instead faltered. Santana… Actually had a point… "Fine," she allowed tersely, "Tell me what you have in mind."


	122. Chapter 122

**A/N: **I originally got a prompt for a Piece that had to do with the first sentence. This is another version.

* * *

When Winter Break ended, Rachel didn't come back to school. Instead, looking troubled and pale with reluctant guilt, Mr. Schuester announced to the glee club that they would have to find another member because Rachel had transferred. Struck dumb with shock quickly turning into anger, Santana was soon up, out, and pounding on Rachel's door. "Berry," she snarled, "Berry, you get out here."

"Young lady," a male voice condemned, the door yanking open, "_What_ do you think you are doing?"

Barely sparing him a glance, Santana took advantage of Leroy's pause to cross his arms to push past him. "Rachel," she snapped, darting towards the staircase, "You get your ass _out_ here."

"Hiram," Leroy swung around, "Get the phone. Young lady? You!" Catching up to her near the top of the stairs, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her to a stop. "We _will _call the police," he warned lowly.

Meeting his gaze head-on, almost vibrating, the look in Santana's eyes almost physically knocked him back. Almost black, ringed with red and the trembling shine of unwanted, feral tears, Santana didn't even seem to fully register he was there. She wrenched her hand away. "I don't care." Whirling, she started hammering on Rachel's bedroom door. "Rachel? _Rachel_!"

"I…" Leroy shook himself. "Young lady." Calming his voice, he walked up behind her, Hiram slowly joining him, "She's not here."

Santana's palm slapped the door.

"…Santana?" Hiram stepped forward, gently putting his hand on her shoulder after passing his husband the cordless phone he'd been clutching; at a lack of rebuff, he sighed, wrapping his other hand around her same shoulder to slide his original one around to her other one, drawing her back from Rachel's door after an initial swaying of Santana's body, "Santana. She's not home yet."

Santana stared at him. "What school?"

Almost convinced he'd imagined the question, Hiram continued leading the girl back down the hallway. "If you think you can calm down, she should be back soon," he deflected.

"_Hiram_."

Hiram met his husband's eyes. Santana was already breaking down under his hands, her shoulders shaking. "Leroy," he said softly as they walked down the hall, "Put another cup up for tea?"


	123. Chapter 123

**A/N: **Prompt from darkndangel9, who gave me, inadvertently, the first two sentences. I apologize in advance for how horrible this is. Also, trigger: death. Thanks!

* * *

"Honey, have you been telling the newspaper about our sex life again? Because the 'death by cunnilingus' newspaper article keeps showing up on my dash."

Santana's lips quirked. "'Scuze me?" she pushed back from her desk, gliding on her desk chair until she got far enough to meet Rachel's eyes over the breakfast counter. "Death by cunnilingus?"

"Yes." Smirking, eyes twinkling, Rachel leaned forward, letting Santana get an eyeful of her low cut blouse, "Sounds like something you routinely do to me."

Santana chuckled. Standing, kicking her chair back to its home, she skirted around the room partition to sling her arms around Rachel's waist. Tugging her into her, she grinned down into her, "You're being uncharacteristically blasé."

Rachel twined her arms around Santana's neck. "True, it's not really something to joke about, but…" She let out a small noise of surprise and anticipation when Santana lifted her onto the kitchen counter, sliding her hands under her skirt a second later, "It certainly, _ohh_, got your attention."


	124. Chapter 124

**A/N: **Prompt from llandorian; line from the Anita/Maria duet (Anita to Maria): "Stick to your own kind." Honestly, I think I'm going through a phase of just spitting words and emotions at the screen. Thanks!

* * *

"Stick with your own kind."

"My own kind, what?" Sighing, shaking her head, Rachel turned back to her textbook.

Santana's hand wrapped around her shoulder. "You're not _listening_ to me," She pushed, pulling Rachel back around. "You _need_ to listen to me."

"Get your hand _off_ of me," Rachel shrugged Santana off, glaring at her, "And I don't like your tone, either. You have something to say to me? Say it cordially."

Santana straightened, crossing her arms as she studied Rachel intensely. "I'm _saying_," she began, voice tight as she spoke through her clenched jaw, "You are making the _worst _decision out of every single deciding _disaster_ that seems to make up your entire life."

"_Again_," Rachel glared back at her, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Santana's hand was suddenly wrapped around Rachel's, fingers tight around her ring finger where the ring Finn had given to her already pinched her skin. "_This_," she hissed, jerking Rachel's hand, "_Finn_. He's _so_ – he's – he's not _worth you_, Berry!"


	125. Chapter 125

**A/N: **Follow-up to chapter 69.

* * *

Rachel didn't know if everyone was staring at her or it only felt like they were because she expected them to be. She had, after all, arrived to school _with_ Santana, the girl having even opened her car door for her before accompanying her to her locker. Rachel'd tried to protest, stating the necklace was enough, that sticking so close to her wouldn't benefit Santana in any way, but Santana hadn't had any of it. The bottom line was: the sooner people got the message, the better it would be.

"So at lunch, I'mma pick you up from class," Santana told her as she leaned back against the locker next to Rachel's, "I's got plans to implement."

"Why does that sound like something I shouldn't agree to?" Rachel asked, frowning at her over her lock as she spun it open, "We already tend to eat lunch together as a glee group, anyway."

"Uhm, no, _you _do that. Britts, Q, and I normally go out to eat."

Oh. That was right. "Well," Rachel threw her hair over her shoulder, giving Santana an exasperated look, "Then why change that?"

"_Because_." Rolling her eyes, Santana straightened, her hand coming up to catch Rachel's wrist, "I _told_ you. Things are changing around here. And the first order of business." She shrugged, leaning past Rachel to pull out her math book for her, still holding onto her wrist, "Is to _officially _introduce you to B and Q."

Accepting the textbook, Rachel slowly let out a breath of air. "Fine," she agreed, pulling her hand from Santana's grip, "But am I expected to pay for my own lunch?"

Santana laughed. "That wouldn't be very chivalrous if I made you pay, now would it?" Then, leaning forward to undo another button on Rachel's blouse so the heart necklace was better showcased, Santana lifted it up, fingers stroking along her skin. Rachel's breath caught, having to watch as Santana studied the charm. "Remember," Santana whispered, lips curling up as her eyes met Rachel's again, dark and intense, "You're under my protection now. Make sure _every_one knows."


	126. Chapter 126

**A/N: **Inspired by the peeps on tumblr who answered my finish the sentence prompt of: Santana, on the eve of Rachel and Finn's wedding_. Blame them.

* * *

She'd lost count how much rum she'd consumed, having stopped bothering with the ice and Coke hours ago. Her glass was tipped on the side and shoved to the back of the desk to make room for her bottle of Appleton Estate when it wasn't clutched in her hand as she drank from it directly.

She knew she wasn't going to be able to make the ceremony the next day, but she didn't care. Even if she was supposed to be the maid of honor. She had no energy to care. She didn't want to care. Not anymore. She wasn't going to care even if the tears flowing non-stop down her cheeks said otherwise.

"I gave _everything _to you," she croaked, "_Everything_!" Weakly slamming her fist down onto the paper already crushed and smeared with bleeding and bled ink, Santana crumpled it between her fingers, Her head dropping, grinding into the back of her hand, she sobbed harder, each heaving cry wet and broken. "I gave you everything."

Her throat closing, her words barely more than ragged, raspy breaths of air as she shuddered, shaking as she curled into herself best as she could, Santana Lopez moaned into the back of her hand. Her cheek and nose and lips slid against skin and knuckles soaked in tears and mucus and saliva, "Why'd you choose him? Everything. I gave you - Rachel. _Rache_. Why'd you, why'd you choose _hi-i-i-i-i-im_? Oh **_god_**. **_Rachel_**. I love you. _I __**love**__ you_. I love you so much. Me. You should be marrying me. Me. **_Me_**.

"Please. You should be marrying _me_."


	127. Chapter 127

"Okay, I'm going to be fully straight with you. I'm fully aware that if you're not attracted to me, there's nothing I can do to make you. I'm not going to force you to like me. That's stupid. That doesn't mean, however," Santana shut her locker, giving Rachel an intent side-glance, "That I'm going to stop showing you I'm a much, much better choice than anyone else because you're a much, much better person than everyone else and you deserve to be treated like it. That's all I'm trying to do. I'm not looking for a one-night stand. That isn't who you are. And that's not what I want. I like you, Rachel Berry. And if I only get a really awesome friend out of this whole deal, then I'll take it." She looked away briefly, lips curving up, shaking her head, "It's not the first time I've fallen in love with one of my best friends. I can deal."

"But that isn't fair to you."

"Who said it had to be?" Turning, Santana smiled at Rachel. It was sad, resigned, but real. "Real life isn't fair, Rachel. Just because your dads are gay, it doesn't mean you are, or that you're even bi. And that's fine. I'm not mad at you. I may not appreciate it, but that's me. Not you." Shuffling her books into one arm, she wrapped the other around Rachel's shoulders, pulling her into a soft hug. "Don't try to be something you're not, okay? That's not you. Stay who you are and stop trying to change yourself for everyone else in your life. If you get one thing out of this whole mess," she squeezed Rachel, stepping back, "Remember that."


	128. Chapter 128

**A/N: **Guest asked for genderswap!Rachel, so here you go~ Thanks!

* * *

Ray Berry was short. Looking down her nose at him, Santana sneered. "I don't date Oompa-Loompas. Or losers."

The boy's smile didn't slip. "I'm two inches taller than you, Santana." He slipped his hands into his back pockets, shrugging confidently, "And as an accomplished leading man and new quarterback of the football team, I am not a loser."

"You're the new quarterback?" Santana's eyebrows snapped up, her eyes sweeping up and down Ray's body. Suddenly, he wasn't looking so loser-ish. He did have nice broad shoulders and decent biceps, and the longer she looked at him, he was surprisingly handsome. Maybe she could work with the big nose and slight height.

Ray smirked, shaking his head as he turned away to his locker, pulling a new letterman jacket out. "As of yesterday. So," he looked back at her as he pulled it on, "Think about it. Even if you only start contemplating dating me due to my new social status, I am confident my natural charms will pull you in the rest of the way."

Well wasn't he cocky? Santana smirked. "I'm not that easy, dwarf boy." Starting past him, giving him a simple flirty look under her eyelashes, she laughed to herself at how easily red rose on his olive skin.

Ray Berry, huh? Santana never would have considered the uber-gleek before, even if she had to admit he was a damn good singer and had spades of talent; she'd even, honestly, after his relationship with Tina had ended during winter break, thought the guy might have been gay. So either he wasn't or he wanted Santana as his beard, and honestly, at this point, Santana didn't care. As the new quarterback, he'd be _her _perfect beard.

Besides. Santana turned on her heel. Studying Ray from down the hall, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing. Something told her he wouldn't be pushy about starting a physical relationship.

Maybe he _would _be perfect.


	129. Chapter 129

**A/N: **Inspired by JackyKay's response to my _Finish the sentence? _prompt of, "No," Rachel lifted her chin, pressing her hand against Santana's, "_." Thanks! ...I'm not too happy with this (really, can I write characters correctly anymore?), but I'm hoping I can blame the fact that I wrote this while watching South Park. XD

* * *

"No," Rachel lifted her chin, pressing her hand against Santana's, "I can't. I'm pregnant and my life is a mess right now."

"And what if I could _make_ your life better? What then?" Snapping her fingers around Rachel's hand, Santana stared down at her.

Shaking her head, Rachel smiled sadly. "San. I can't be selfish right now. I like you." She stroked Santana's arm, "I _really _like you. But… I can't. It wouldn't be fair to you."

Santana's grip tightened. Watching Rachel's hand on her arm, she took a deep breath. "Rache. I don't care. I don't, okay? Listen to me."

"I am." Pausing, taking a deep breath and lowering her face, she bit her lip. "But…" She looked up; tears had gathered in her eyes, "You're not listening to me. I need a friend now, Santana. Someone to be there for me. I can _handle_ a friendship. I don't think I can offer more." Moving her hand up, she softly cupped Santana's face. "Can you be my friend? Without pressuring me for more?"

Before Santana could open her mouth, Rachel leaned up to gently kiss her. "I feel this too, okay?" she whispered, "And that makes this all the more worse. Because…" She stepped back, pulling against Santana's hold on her, expression crumpling, "I don't want to lead you on, either."

Santana moved forward to make up the space. "Rache," she husked, it her turn to cup Rachel's face, "Shut up. Just _shut. Up_." Jerking Rachel into her, arm snaking around her waist to hold her tightly, carefully against her, she slid her other arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Just shut up and let me hold you," she pushed out fiercely, "We'll figure this out. I'll figure this out. God knows you need someone as awesome as me around."

Barely managing a laugh, Rachel slowly, slowly melted into her, burying her head into Santana's neck. "Okay," she sniffled, voice breaking, "We'll… _I'll_ try."

Her body almost sagging in relief, Santana kissed the side of Rachel's head, smoothing her hands up and down the smaller girl's back. "Good," she whispered as Rachel started crying, pulling her closer and pressing slightly grinning lips to Rachel's hair again and again, "Who else'll be able to keep up with a mini-Berry and Mama-Berry's _insane _pregnancy hormones?"


	130. Chapter 130

**A/N: **Was prompted 'paint' from an anon. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel had no idea how Santana made overalls look so... _Good_. Sure, she'd seen the girl wear them to school once or twice, but now, dressed in the grungiest of paint overalls ever as she bopped her head to the music they had pumping into the living room, Rachel found herself almost the most attracted to Santana she ever was.

"Hey, you gonna start helping again, or just gonna stand there until you drool enough to flood the room?"

A light blush rising on her cheeks, Rachel shook her head and padded into the room. Leaning up to kiss Santana's cheek, she murmured, "Wipe that smirk off your face," before tugging on one of the overall straps.

"Or what?" Still smirking, Santana transferred her paintbrush to the can of paint on the ladder next to her so she could circle Rachel's waist and pull her in close. "I'm thinkin' you're thinking something naughty, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, Rachel smiled, reaching up to push one of the strands of Santana's hair that had slipped out of her ponytail behind her ear. She cupped Santana's cheek. "You have paint on your face."

"And who's the one who put it there?" Santana's eyes darkened. She stroked Rachel's waist. "Mmm... I thought you wanted to get this done."

Rachel deepened her smile. "Oh, I do." Pulling Santana's head closer, she kissed her softly; gently nipping her bottom lip, she arched into her, "But you're making it so hard to concentrate." She tugged the strap of Santana's overalls again." I think you're going to have to get out of these clothes."

Santana's eyebrows raised. "I like where this is going," she kissed Rachel back, then kissed her again, and again, turning to push her against the wall she had just been painting. "Don't care," she growled to cut off Rachel's protest, thrusting her tongue into her mouth as she covered her body with hers, "I want you."

"Oh _god_..." Gasping, rolling into Santana, Rachel buried her hands into her hair and started sucking on her tongue. At least, she moaned, helping Santana tear their clothes off, they'd already covered everything in the room.

What a way to christian their new house.


	131. Chapter 131

**A/N: **Prompt from lil-becca-boo-bear; currently neither couple is yet 'out' but Quitt and Pezberry are together. One pairing catches the other in a compromising situation. I tried. XD Also, a DD. Thanks!

* * *

Snaking her arm through Santana's, Rachel presses herself into her side. "I'm telling you," she protests good naturedly, shaking her head as they walk down the deserted hallway, "There's something going on with Quinn and Brittany."

"Like what?" Scoffing, Santana gives Rachel an indulgent smile. "I think you've been reading too many trashy novels, Berry."

"You _want_ to think that." Bumping her shoulder against Santana's, Rachel grins up at her, "But I'm still telling you."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Fine," she grins, stopping to kiss Rachel firmly, "I'll pretend you have your strange Jewish third sense like my Mexican third eye."

Kissing her back, Rachel pulls back far enough to smile at her. "You have your own third eye?"

Smirking cockily, Santana doesn't answer her. Instead, she suddenly pushes Rachel back into the nearest locker, trapping her body with hers. Stepping into her space, she presses her lips against Rachel's pulse point, slowly drawing up her neck. "C'mon, Rache," she husks, hands trapping Rachel's, "What do you know that I don't?"

Rachel bites down on her lower lip. "That's a hard question to answer," she hums, smiling, "Especially since I don't know what you do and do not know." Her hands coming up to cup Santana's hips, she arches her neck up, meeting Santana's lips kiss for kiss as they finally make their way to her mouth, "Mmm... Not helping at _all_..."

Santana chuckles. "It's a good thing you're so _sexy_ and _willing_..."

"Always with you." Pulling back just enough to beam up to her, Rachel nips at her lower lip. "C'mon," she murmurs, hand tugging at Santana's, "We have an appointment at my house to meet."

Sighing deeply, Santana growls as Rachel tries to slip past her. "Stop," she hisses, hand spread along Rachel's abs, "Not just yet."

"_San_."

Santana laughs. "Don't think I don't love this," she teases, kissing Rachel again, "But we're still not _getting_ anywhere."

"I don't know." Rachel circles Santana's neck, arms locking around her shoulders, "You seem pretty _willing_ to me..."

Santana laughs again. Pushing her hips into Rachel's, she wraps her hands around her shoulders. "C'mon," she coaxes, kissing Rachel back, "What is it that you think you know...? Tell me."

Instead of answering, Rachel kisses her deeply.

Breath hitching, Santana kisses her back.

* * *

"_Stop_," Quinn gasps, hands grasping at Brittany's waist as they stumble out of the choir room, "We're - we're supposed to _meet_ - "

Brittany, kissing her silent, smiles against her lips. "I don't care," she says sweetly, wrapping her arms around Quinn, "We'll see them eventually, right?"

Blushing, Quinn kisses her back. "Even so," she tries to protest, melting momentarily into the taller blonde's arms, "Santana and Rachel _are_..."

"Waiting for us, right." Brittany pouts, lips brushing against Quinn's again, "But can't we wait until we get to Rachel's house?"

"To what?" Quinn's hazel eyes slowly meet Brittany's.

Brittany swoops down to kiss her again. "To announce our relationship, duh," she announces, smiling, hands wrapping around Quinn's as she pulls apart far enough to tug Quinn down the hall, "We want to do this fairly, don't we?"

"Fine." Sounding resigned, Quinn allows Brittany to lead her, hand tight within the other blonde's, slightly sweaty. "I just don't..."

Brittany stops them. "Quinn," she says sweetly, looking down at her, "Are you ready or not?"

Swallowing, Quinn looks down momentarily. Brittany's hand tenses in hers, and she looks back up. "Okay," she smiles wider, eyes opening to meet Brittany's again, "Let's do this."

Brittany's squeal echoes down the hall.

* * *

Jerking apart, Santana and Rachel stare at each other. "What...?" Rachel starts.

Santana doesn't bother to finish. Hand grabbing Rachel's, she runs down the hall. "That was - "

"Brittany?"

Skidding around the corner, Santana stares at the two girls staring back at her while Rachel just beams beautifully, congratulating herself.

Santana's eyes drift down to where Brittany is holding Quinn's hand. "You... Two...?"

Grinning widely, Brittany nods happily. "We were going to tell you," she gushes, pulling Quinn to her side, "But, like, it must be fate that you found out this way!"

Santana stares at her, then stares at Quinn. "You..."

Lacing her hand with hers, Rachel nudges her side. "C'mon," she whispers, trying to distract Santana by kissing her cheek, "Deal with this at my house?"

Santana turns her head to stare at Rachel. "...Fine," she finally whispers, swiveling to barely acknowledge Brittany and Quinn, "That's probably best..."

Rachel squeezes her hand. "San... You okay? We... Okay?"

Santana pauses. Her eyes search Rachel's, and she smiles. "Yeah," she dips her head, ignoring her two old friends, pressing her forehead to Rachel; a slow smile takes over her face as she pulls Rachel closer, "We're perfect."


	132. Chapter 132

**A/N: **DD for nayasberrys; frustrated. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel couldn't stop tapping her pen against her notebook. It was a nervous tic, one she'd developed over years of anxiety suppression. Normally she was good at keeping herself reined in, but lately...

Lounged out on Rachel's couch, barefoot and bra-less, Santana Lopez was currently digging into a pint of Ben & Jerry's, her attention on a barely interesting (to Rachel) episode of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. Alternately laughing at the most inappropriate things and throwing the barest of appropriate comments at the TV, the girl was entirely too relaxed.

It was driving Rachel crazy.

In a lull during one of the commercial breaks, Rachel mustered a harsh, "Do you _have _to watch that trash?"

"It's only trash to you," Santana shrugged, not caring a bit, "Because you don't understand it."

"I don't _need _to understand it. I'm as far removed from this show as you are Barney or the Teletubbies."

"Really?" Lolling her head to the side, dark eyes meeting Rachel's squarely, Santana took a giant bite of her ice cream. "You're pathetic, you know?"

Rachel froze. "How so?" she asked stiffly, glaring at Santana over her notebook.

Santana sighed deeply. Her dark eyes burned into hers. "You're so uptight," she finally offered blithely, sticking her spoon back into the ice cream, "It's depressing and stupid."

Closing her eyes, Rachel tried to go back to her studies.

She failed.

"Really?" she said lowly, throat starting to strain as she looked back up at Santana, "What would you expect from someone in my position? From someone like I am, watching _you... Waste _your life?"

Taking one last bite of her ice cream, Santana set the carton down onto the coffee table. "Wow," she said listlessly, slowly meeting Rachel's eyes, "One would think you're judgmental."

Rachel rolled her eyes violently. "Really," she said spouted, disdain dripping from every word, "Whatever gave you _that _idea?"

Shoving her spoon into the ice cream once more, Santana sat up. Clicking the TV off, she tilted her head. Her eyes were dark as they met Rachel's. "Are you for serious?"

"Serious for what?" Placing her pen into the crease of her notebook, Rachel tried to meet Santana's gaze head on. Her fingers still wanted to drum her pencil against the paper.

Shaking her head, Santana straightened as if she was trying to seem more professional. "Do you _ever _listen to yourself?"

Rachel raised her chin. "I always do."

"Somehow, I doubt that." Clasping her hands on her knee and thigh, legs crossed, Santana stared at her. "Every syllable? Every inflection?"

Grinding her teeth, Rachel met her disdain head on. "Like you _really _care."

"I care enough to ask you." Her voice deep, Santana shook her head, sitting up even more stiffly.

"Right." Swallowing, bobbing her head, Rachel finally stood up from her seat, sweeping up her notebook and books. "I'm just gonna go into my room. Knock if you need me."

Santana's hand flitted around her forehead. "Sure," the girl saluted, "Sure. Whatever. Have fun." She paused, "If you can. If you..." She sucked air in through her pursed lips, "If you honestly can. Have fun."


	133. Chapter 133

**A/N: **Prompted by itsacurse, who gave me the word collar. Thanks!

* * *

Tugging at his leash, Fiyero snuffled quickly along the scent he knew his owner was missing. _Come on_, he shook his head, eyes meeting those staring down at him, _This way. She's this way. _He turned back, urging more energy into his stocky legs.

"Fiyero!" Rachel pulled against her bulldog's determined stride, still allowing his pace to quicken her own steps, "The park's back that way. You know this! _What _are you doing?"

Undaunted, Fiyero continued on. _Come on_. _Come on. We're close! Closer! We're - There! _Letting out a triumphant woof, he barreled forward, managing to snap his leash out of Rachel's grip. It skittered happily after him.

"Fiyero!"

Jumping up, slobbering along naked knees, Fiyero's tail wagged his entire body. _You_, he ignored the hot coffee splattering down around him and the loud laughing and cursing voice, butting his head into the girl whose scent he hadn't smelled in far too long, _I missed you! Make her happy again!_

Slowing, breath rushing in her lungs, Rachel's stricken eyes met Santana's after she straightened from greeting him, now empty coffee cup clutched uselessly in her hand. "Oh, Santana," Rachel murmured, hastily pulling Fiyero up, into her arms, "I'm... I'm so sorry. _Stop it_, Fiyero!"

Fiyero panted, grinning wildly. When Santana sighed, finally pulling her gaze from Rachel to him, he bopped his head, rumbling happily when Santana sighed again and relented, softly scratching at his ear. _Yeah. Ooh. You can't go away again. Okay? _He licked Santana's wrist.

Rachel's body shifted under him. "I... Can I buy you a new coffee?"

Finally, Santana allowed a small smile to grace her lips, annoyed expression continuing to fade. "Sure," she scratched down Fiyero's ear and down to his jowls, locking Rachel's eyes to hers, "But don't think you're getting out of buying me a pastry, too."

Rachel sighed in relief, depositing Fiyero back down. "Just one?" she smiled, patting the bulldog's head a little more firmly until Santana turned away, then cupped the sides of his face to shake him excitedly, affectionately. "Naughty dog," she couldn't even pretend to sound mad, "You naughty, naughty dog."

_You're welcome. _Fiyero licked her broadly._ You're gonna bring her home, right? Tell me you're bringing her home. _He licked her again, staring at her._ Bring her home so you can be happy again._

Sitting up alertly after Rachel tied him to the foot of a bench, watching the two girls make their way inside the café, Fiyero shook his head as if he had an itch._ If you don't, _he asserted passionately, standing up and tail wagging as they reappeared a couple of minutes later,_ I'm just gonna find her again. Promise._


	134. Chapter 134

**A/N: **This was going to be a random prompt drabble response, but it fizzled, so here you go. XD Anyway, part of the Vigilante and Vigilante 2 Universe.

* * *

"That was Brittany. She's planning on getting out of class around four. So, knowing her…"

"We should meet her more around five," Santana finished for her, sighing and glancing at her watch. Letting her sleeve go to recover it, she grabbed Rachel's hand and tugged her back into the flow of traffic. "What do you want to do until then?"

Rachel laced their hands together. "Well, we're near Rockafeller Center, if you want to go ice skating." Her cheeks pinked, and she smiled up at her, snuggling into her shoulder, "Like our first date."

Disengaging their hands to slide her arm around Rachel's shoulders, pulling her closer, Santana returned her smile. "First _official _date. You refused to believe the first one counted."

"Like me cleaning you up after a 'boxing lesson' went wrong really counted as a date." Rachel rolled her eyes. She slipped her arm around Santana's waist, and continued, "We'll just agree to disagree there, hun."


	135. Chapter 135

**A/N: **Anon prompt on tumblr for Santana/Brody, and this was the only way I could make that happen in my head. Thanks!

* * *

As soon as Brody was passed out, snoring loudly with his sweaty body draped over hers, Santana was pushing him off of her, dumping him roughly all the way on the other side of his and Rachel's bed. Disgusting, she sneered at him, grabbing Rachel's robe to slip on, a couple of batting eyes and purred words, and Rachel's boyfriend was all set and ready to be ridden and fucked like a bitch. He hadn't even been good enough to get her off without help.

Santana almost thought about taking a shower right away to get rid of his sick from her body, but she knew if she went to Rachel _not _smelling like his cum and body spray, the fucking naive girl would think she was lying. And if that happened, Santana shuddered, tying the robe tighter around herself, she'd have to sleep with the man-whore again.

No, she closed the door behind her, returning Kurt's burning glare with her own stony face, better to hurt the girl now and not draw it out. She did that with the Finncredible Hulk, and look where that got her.

No. Santana took a seat on the couch, making sure Brody's clumsy hickeys were perfectly exposed on her neck and upper chest, the faster Rachel knows the truth, the faster she's going to kick him out, and the faster Santana can make sure she knows it was for Rachel's own good she did what she did.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose. Trying not to vomit at the smell of man-sex burning in her nostrils, and fighting the painful coldness spreading out through her body, she picked up her phone from the coffee table, texted Rachel to find out when she was going to be coming home, and waited in perfect, heavy silence.


	136. Chapter 136

**A/N: **An anon gave me the prompt Snapchat. I don't know anything other than what wikipedia tells me of the app, so forgive me if totally failed it. Thanks!

* * *

When Santana received her first Snapchat from Rachel, she thought it was an accident. After all, why would the annoying midget have sent her a picture of her bra-encased breasts? If Santana had had the frame of mind to figure out how to _finally _save the pics she was sent via that app, she would have. Instead, as it was, she'd stared, slack-jawed, as the omelet she'd been making burned.

However, as soon as the pic had disappeared and she had hurried to throw the now burnt breakfast away to start clearing the smoke, she was already receiving a second alert. This time, it was of Rachel cradling her still bra-encased breasts while one of the straps fell down her upper arm. Still gaping, Santana's spatula scraped along the pan.

The third pic had the bra obviously unhooked and hanging loose where, if there weren't shadows, Santana would have seen _far _more than nip. Making a strangled noise, Santana threw the pan and spatula into the sink and _slammed _her finger on the phone book icon, calling the hobbit up. "_Berry_," she practically yelled as soon as the girl picked up, "Not that the lesbian doesn't appreciate this, but _what are you doing_?"

"Santana?" Rachel sounded incredibly too calm, "What time are you coming to my party?"

"Party?" Santana blinked, "_What _party?"

"The one I'm hosting in my bed. Tonight. When can you make it?"

Santana stared down at her phone. She swallowed. Taking in account the throbbing in her lower belly and remembering the pics as well as Rachel's sinful legs any day of the week, she finally let a wide, slow smirk take over face. "Now," she turned off the tap, turning to jog up to her room. "Gotta say, Berry, I didn't know you had this in you, but I like."

Rachel's voice grew lower, smug, "Thought you would. See you soon. Don't be surprised if I keep sending you pics."

_Ohh_. Santana lengthened her stride. "Looking forward to it." She turned off her phone, stuffing it into her pocket, her smirk almost becoming more of a leer, "But looking forward to the reality more, _damn_."


	137. Chapter 137

**A/N: **Valentine's Day prompt from hucklebarn; Pezberry where Rachel thinks it's just sex and Santana won't admit it's love. Late, but thanks!

* * *

Sitting up, Rachel's still trembling as she sweeps her hair from her face, picking up the hair band from the bedside table to pull her hair back from her sweaty neck. "Well," she sighs, swallowing, scooting to the side of the bed to stand up on weak legs, "Until next time?"

Santana stares at her from her spot against the headboard. "Right. Fine," she says, forcing herself to sound unaffected, studying her nails, "If you can drag yourself from the blubber giant."

Closing her eyes, Rachel's hands curl into soft fists before reaching for her jacket. "Next Thursday. After school. That's when you're always horny after cheer practice, right?"

Santana clenches her jaw. Glaring down at the bed, she swings herself off of the bed. "Whatever. Yes. You're good for relieving _that_, at least."

Shrugging her jacket on, Rachel pauses. "Fine. Until then."

Slinking around the bed, Santana almost reaches for Rachel's shoulder. Instead, she picks up the pillow Rachel had been using. "Right. Until then."

Her eyes meeting Santana's, dark and shuttered so Santana can't read what she's feeling, and vice versa, Rachel slips out of her room.

Watching her go, Santana sinks back onto her bed. "Fine."


	138. Chapter 138

**A/N: **Prompt from adelaidegleek13; 'everyone's alone, don't leave. This isn't the last of us. Santana I love you.' I don't even know. XD Thanks!

* * *

"Everyone's alone. Don't leave. This isn't the last of us. Santana, I love you."

Santana blinked. Pushing the replay button on her answering machine, she cocked her head, trying to make sense of the stilted words. Taken alone, they probably made sense, but like this...

They were eerie.

"Don't leave. This isn't the last of us."

Frowning, Santana pushed the button again.

"Santana, I love you."

Hadn't she just heard from Rachel less than an hour ago? After class? Something snide about how even if Santana had carried Valerie, it didn't mean her voice was perfect?

Santana played the message one more time.

"Everyone's alone. Don't leave."

Her fingers reached for her cell phone before she realized what was happening. This is stupid, she thought, but dialed Rachel's number anyway. She'd saved it after a drunken night with Brittany and Quinn with plans to use it the next time there would be an incredibly mean Truth or Dare night, but this was still the first time she used it.

The phone rung once, twice, and three times before Rachel's hesitant voice answered. "Yes?"

"Why the hell are you leaving weird-ass messages on my home answering machine?"

There was a second of confused silence, and then Rachel asked slowly, "Santana...?"

Santana scoffed. "Of course you know it's me. Unless you left the most fucking strange messages on _everyone's _answering machines. What the hell, hobbit?"

"Santana? I'm sorry. I don't. What are you talking about?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana spat out, "Just never call me again, okay? I don't _need _your loser-ness _anywhere_ near me. _Especially_ if it's you telling me you _love me_! Like, _eww_!"

"_What_?"

But Santana had already hung up on her. Erasing the girl's message with a poke of her finger, she forced herself to forget it.

...And forget it she did, until three years in the future when, shaking in absolute fear as the zombie hoard groaned and battered outside their stronghold, Rachel whispered the exact same words in her arms, sounding, scarily, exactly as she had on that old, old answering machine message.


	139. Chapter 139

**A/N: **A random prompt from an anon for Finntana vs. Puckleberry chicken pool fight. Thanks!

* * *

Shoving Santana's arms from around her, Rachel tightened her thighs around Puck's thighs. "Stop!" she giggled, digging one hand into Puck's mohawk to anchor herself even as she could feel Puck's hands wrap tighter around her knees, "You shall not win!"

"Yeah, like your conservative speech will have any effect on me!" Laughing herself, Santana kicked her heels into Finn's chest and sides, "Onward, Finnticles!"

Throwing his head up, Finn jumped up enough so Santana's legs left the water, causing a giant splash as the two landed again so up to Finn's neck and Santana's thighs were submerged again. They advanced on Puck and Rachel.

"Dude, weak." Crouching enough to do his own leap into the air and splash coming back down, Puck smirked at Finn and Santana, "You guys are _so_ weak!"

Finn narrowed his eyes, the expression echoed by Santana.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest. "Well?" she taunted, "You just going to stay there like _cowards_?"

Santana growled, Finn echoing with a huff. Curling his hands around her calves, Finn surged forward.

And, with several cries and taunts, a loud splash echoing, Rachel and Puck were, finally, defeated.


	140. Chapter 140

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Santana and Rachel are having sex on a car when Schuester interrupts them accidentally. I'm still rusty writing smut, but oh well. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's mouth is hot and wet, and Santana can't get enough of it. Her girlfriend's fingers are tangled in her hair, stray fingernails scraping along the back of her neck and shoulder. Pulling Rachel tighter into her so there's less of a chance they'll damage her car, Santana is going to damn well make her cum.

"Mmm... _San_..." Rachel moans. The insides of her thighs are sliding along Santana's hips, pushing more of her weight into Santana's arm slung behind her back. Her back flexes with each centimeter Santana's other hand slides under her underwear. She knows Santana's just teasing her right now, as it would be easier for both of them if she just came from below and shoved the crotch of Rachel's underwear aside, but Rachel doesn't mind this. She loves how easily Santana can get her worked up.

"I fucking _love _your skirts," Santana husks, biting down on Rachel's bottom lip, moving with Rachel's body as she arches into her, groaning lowly. "God. You're already _burning _into my hand, and I haven't even _touched _you yet."

Rachel laughs. "You've been touching me for _hours_, Santana." Sliding her hands up and down, Rachel pulls Santana's head into the side of her neck, letting out a giant breath hissed through her teeth when sharp teeth bite down just below her jaw, "_Oh_. S-San... You were driving me _crazy _in class today."

Tracing her tongue up Rachel's neck, Santana pushes her fingers down just enough so she meets Rachel's clit, sliding around to coat them in her arousal. Rachel's thighs spread even more, the girl humping herself into Santana's hand. "Mmm, baby…" Santana clamps down on her neck, sucking harshly, curling her fingers to rub against her harder, then pulls back to let her underwear snap back to cover her again, "I'm going to fuck you so _hard._"

Rachel's head falls back, and she bites her lip as Santana shifts, arm tightening around her as she finally shoves aside the crotch to fuck her like she's been promising to do all day. Santana presses into her, and Rachel grunts as she moves deeper. It always feels so _good_… Especially outside with the threat of discovery and –

"Oh! Rachel. Santana. I was hoping to run into you. I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming performance, and if you wanted to have a duet – oh my _god_!"


	141. Chapter 141

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; zip me. Thanks!

* * *

"What?"

"Zip me." Presenting her back to Rachel, Santana waited in annoyed silence. "_C'mon_," she growled when the girl didn't make a move to do as she told her to, "What the hell's _difficult _to understand about this?"

There was a sound of Rachel's mouth clicking shut, and the girl loudly sighed. "Alright, Santana," she clipped, the rustle of fabric telling Santana she had walked up behind her, "Whatever you say."

"About time." Moving her hair to one side to get it out of Rachel's way, Santana tapped her foot. _Seriously_. Why the hell was the hobbit taking her time?

Rachel's fingers brushed along her lower back, seemingly feeling out the skin around the stuck zipper. The contact made Santana shiver, and she ground her teeth together to stop herself from making a sound, instead concentrating on the actual act of the zipper _finally _being pulled up.

"_There_," Rachel snipped as she pulled back, "Happy now?"

Santana lifted her hand, feeling around to make sure her dress was fully closed. "Whatever," she murmured, giving the other girl a tight, fake smile before turning to the makeup table, "It's not like you cured _cancer_, Frodo."

Letting out a sigh, Rachel walked across the room, doing something Santana honestly wasn't interested in. "You're welcome," the girl offered lowly.

Santana didn't bother answering. Instead, dabbing the theatre makeup over her cheeks, she smirked at her reflection. Hell yeah, she was going to be the hottest bitch on the stage.


	142. Chapter 142

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Pezbeberry (Santana/Rachel/Rachel) threesome in New York, and Kurt has bagels. Thanks!

* * *

Santana has no idea how a younger version of Rachel and contemporary version of Rachel are both standing in front of her. But, she has to admit, she doesn't mind one bit. Younger!Rachel is biting her lower lip as her hands play with the bottom of her sweater, while current!Rachel is arranged seductively on the couch, one hand under her chin, her other splayed across her stomach as she looks at Santana under her eyelashes.

At this moment in time, Santana doesn't know which Rachel she finds more attractive. All she _does_ know is that the palms of her hands are tingling, and her lower stomach is hot and pulsing. Her body, at least, wants this to happen.

Young!Rachel, who Santana decides she's going to call Berry just to make it easier on herself, lets go of her lower lip. "Santana," the younger girl whispers, "Don't try to understand this. Just know... You like us, don't you?"

Santana raises one of her fingers, shushing her. "Is this some strange wet dream or something?"

Current!Rachel, who Santana names Rachel, sits up. "Oh?" An annoying smirk crosses her face. "Have you had many wet dreams about me?"

Scoffing, Santana crosses her arms. She studies both girls, back and forth. "Is this happening?" she feigns disinterest, "Or should I seek out the patron goddess of lesbians to set me up for the forseeable future?"

Berry and Rachel exchange glances. Pushing her hair behind her ear, Berry gives Santana a sparkling smile, stepping forward. Mirroring her, Rachel brushes down her own, more fitted sweater as she stands, walking to Santana's other side. Both girls take Santana's arms, pressing their breasts against her.

Santana swallows. She looks at each girl in turn, a slow, slow smirk curving her lips up. "Wanky. I can get into this," she husks, pushing her hands out to slide both of her arms back and around the Rachels' waists. Taking in the minute differences (_so far_) between the two girls, her smirk widens. "I can _definitely _get into this. No matter how fucking _weird_ this is."

"You're telling me," Rachel murmurs, but smiles when Santana looks at her.

For her part, Berry locks her arms around Santana's waist. "You can..." she starts, whispering into Santana's shoulder before looking up to smile shyly at her, "You can kiss me if you want."

Santana's eyes flutter shut. Oh god, she thinks, arm flexing as Rachel's lips make contact with her neck, her fingers tangling into her hair as the two girls start leading her, ostensibly towards Rachel's curtained part of the apartment, this is _way_ too fucking hot.

Rachel circa sophomore and junior year is hot on another level than college freshman Rachel was. Of course. Santana starts stroking both Berry and Rachel's waists, doesn't help that both are incredibly appealing to her.

Rachel closes the curtain behind them, Berry standing obviously unsure nearer the bed. Santana studies her. "You really okay with this?"

Her head jerking up, Berry's eyes are wide and slightly panicked. "Yes," she tries to sound assured and worldly, hands picking at her sweater again.

"Because you know you really don't have to be." Propping her hands on her hips, Santana tries to ignore Rachel getting her bed ready by moving pillows away and turning down the sheets and blankets, "I mean, you, like, still have your V-Card or some such weird shit, right?"

Berry's swallow and nod is all the answer Santana needs. However, "But I still want this. You... I've always like you." Berry looks down. "Always," she admits again, "From sophomore year on."

Rachel is suddenly next to her again, her hands searching out Santana's belt and undoing it. Humming softly to herself, the girl meets Santana's eyes, and she smiles. It's a little shy, but the darkening of them tells Santana more than her words probably ever could.

_God_. This is _still_ too hot. Santana's _still _incredibly turned on. At this point, she doesn't care if she just sleeps with Rachel and Berry watches.

Raising her arms as Rachel pulls her shirt off, Santana gives Berry a supportive smile as she slowly approaches her. The younger girl, almost as if she is still easing herself into the idea of what is going to happen, reaches out to take Santana's hand, stroking along her fingers and knuckles. It's nice, and Santana lets her do it, not bothering to stifle her low noise of approval at Rachel pulling off her own sweater. God, as she thought, the girl had filled out nicely. Slowly, a little more reluctantly, Berry does the same.

Sending Rachel a look, Santana lets her gaze linger on Berry's still bra-ed chest. "Nice," she whispers, meeting Berry's eyes after a second, reaching out to circle her waist with her hands. Berry shivers, and the heat simmering in Santana's belly reignites. However, when Rachel drapes across her back, it roars into a proper flame.

Leaning down, Santana slides her hands up to cup Berry's face. "Well?" she whispers, quirking an eyebrow.

Rachel nuzzles the back of her neck, thin arms locking around her waist.

Berry looks up at her, then lifts her chin, brushing her lips across Santana's. It's innocent, a little fiery, and when Santana pulls back, Rachel drags her into a kiss of her own. Groaning, closing her eyes and letting herself fall back onto the bed, the largest smile she's ever had on her face happens when Rachel and Berry crawl on after her.

Fuck. Yeah.

* * *

"Rise and shine, ladies," Kurt's voice booms way too loudly and happy the next morning, the door of the apartment sliding shut with an almost boom of its own, "I've got bagels!"

Not bothering to answer him, Santana lies completely sated in between Rachel and Berry, arms wrapped around both of their lower backs. Both of the girls' heads are snuggled into her chest, breaths combining as they're both still somehow sleeping. "Wow," she whispers, staring at the ceiling, "I don't know how long this is going to last, but _damn _do I want to take advantage of this as long as I can. It's _way _too good to let go. Way... _Way_ too good."


	143. Chapter 143

**A/N: **Prompt from pezberrykisses; Quitt and Pezberry double date where someone announces an engagement. Thanks!

* * *

Quinn had been fiddling with her drink and napkin for way too long to go unnoticed. Santana couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, Q, _what_ the hell is going on?"

Hazel eyes snapping up to meet hers, Quinn immediately looked over at Rachel. "I don't know what you mean."

"Right." Setting her drink down, Rachel gave her best friend a pointed look. "We know you, Quinn. Does this have anything to do what we were talking about last month?"

"Last month?" Santana looked at her girlfriend.

Not bothering to answer, a slow, excited grin grew across Rachel's face when Quinn blushed, clearing her throat and pushing her hair behind her ear. "Just wait until Britt gets back, okay?"

Grinning, Rachel nodded, then leaned against Santana's shoulder.

"Well?" Santana asked.

Rachel shook her head. "Shh," she kissed the taller girl's jaw, taking her hand underneath the table, "You'll find out soon enough." She smiled at Brittany as the blonde came back to the table, retaking her seat next to Quinn, "Let them tell us their news before we tell them ours."

Santana's fingers played softly along the thin band on Rachel's ring finger. "Fine," she grumbled, smiling, "But I bet you our news is more exciting than Quinn and Brittany's."


	144. Chapter 144

**A/N: **This is a random scrap I found in my odds n' ends document.

* * *

Clearing the last step, Santana walked towards the muted flickering lights and muffled sounds coming from the living room. Sticking her head inside, she wasn't surprised to see most of the New Directions sprawled on the floor and furniture, only Brittany and Quinn being the ones awake enough to watch… Whatever it was they were watching. Yawning, Santana decided the hell with it and shuffled inside.

"Yo," she murmured, plopping down between the two blondes, forcing them to shift to give her room. Spying her abandoned slice of pizza amazingly still intact and uneaten, she leaned forward to grab it and stuffed it into her mouth. "What're you watching?" she mumbled between chews.

Still glaring at her from getting pushed aside, Quinn asked acerbically, "Hungry?"

_No_. Santana rolled her eyes, making a face at her. "I don't know what you're implying," she answered loftily, turning her head to smile at Brittany. Her heartbeat sped up, and a blush rose on her cheeks, "Rachel's gonna be down in a sec." Dammit, why was she sounding so shy?

Brittany's face lit up. "You're talking?"

Santana cleared her throat, lips quirking up. "Something like that."

Giving her a look, Quinn groaned and grinned, her fist flashing out to whack Santana on her shoulder. "Bitch."

"Right." Grinning back, Santana bumped her shoulder, continuing to eat her slice of pizza; hearing a noise and catching sight of Rachel entering the room, Santana caught her eye, grin softening, widening at the blush and shy smile Rachel grew, "And don't you forget it."


	145. Chapter 145

**A/N: **DD prompt from an anon; Rachel was the new star of McKinley's softball team, and Santana couldn't believe it. Thanks!

* * *

It's like Santana's mouth was permanently stuck open, her ears burning as she listened to the gossip swirling around her. "_What_?" she snapped, slamming her locker door closed, glaring at the person nearest her who was recycling the information over and over.

Mercedes, the recipient of her sharpness, flinched, then glared back, crossing her arms. "_Rachel_," she enunciated cockily, almost challengingly, "Is the newest softball wunderkind."

"Wunderkind?" Brittany mouthed, eyebrows furrowed.

"A fancy way of saying a talented _child_," Santana immediately answered, lips curling up the inferenced slur even as she coolly met Mercedes' gaze. "I needs more info, Wheezy."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "That's all there _is_, Satan. All that's on the grapevine, really. Guess we'll need to see her in action..."

"Speak for yourself." Snorting, Santana tightened her backpack straps around herself, "Softball's not high on the list of being important enough for the Cheerio's to cheer for."

"I remember." Mercedes frowned. "None of the female teams are, right?"

Santana briefly met her gaze, shrugging quickly, stiltedly. "It's whatever," she offered, grabbing Brittany's hand and sliding her pinky into hers, "Laters."

"Later," Mercedes answered, but Santana had already tuned her out. Brittany was still repeating 'wunderkind?' over and over, Santana not bothering to tell her it was German, as she was trying to imagine Rachel as _any _kind of positive force for a _sports _team.

That just... Wasn't the hobbit all about singing? Keeping herself _pure _for her voice and far, _far _away from anything that could jeopardize that future?

Getting no answers, she managed to go three periods and through lunch before any kind of _actual _evidence came her way, because, there, at her locker, little miss _annoying _was sporting a letterman's jacket of her own, obviously not Finn's or any of the boys in the school as it fit her too perfectly.

"Hey!" Santana snapped, coming up behind her, arms crossed and glare already full forced, "What's this _crap _I've been hearing all day long?"

Rachel's lips were curved up, the girl calmly pushing her free flowing hair behind her shoulder as she turned to acknowledge Santana. "Does this... _Crap_," she repeated, almost perfectly mimicking Santana's tone, "Have anything to do with official school sports?"

Santana didn't appreciate the tone, eyebrow slanting up as she narrowed her eyes at the easy smile on Rachel's face. "You knows what I'm gettin' at, hobbit," she warned, "What, you finally _done _with being the lowest of low bottom feeder on McKinley High's social ladder?"

"Why, that would imply I've climbed said social ladder," Rachel answered glibly, not giving any indication she was bothered at all.

Santana growled under her breath. "Hey_. Berry_," she hissed, suddenly not comfortable with _any _of the new developments going on in _her _high school, stepping forward to force her presence into Rachel's sphere of awareness, "What the hell are you _doing_? _Playing at_?"

Rachel's eyes flared. "Let's get one thing _straight_," the smaller girl stepped forward, hand coming up to jab her finger into Santana's sternum, Santana pulling back, "I am _not _'playing at' _anything. _This?" She shimmied her hand over her letterman jacket, "This was _earned_. I'm _good _at this, Santana. Be it hard to understand or - or _not _within my norm, this is _me_.

"I grew up _playing _this, Santana. I know it's not singing, or _your _definition of entertainment, ironic, seeing as you're a _cheerleader_, but it _is _me. And I _don't _need your _permission_. Frankly, it's _your _problem if you're," she lifted her hands, making the bunny movements with her hands, "_Uncomfortable _with this. I'm not _here _to mold into _your _idea of who I am."

Santana's temper ignited. Hand coming up to knock Rachel's hands out of the air, she advanced another step, meeting Rachel's glare straight on as she forced the girl's back to meet the solidness of her locker. "No, _you _get one thing straight," she hissed, "I have _no _stake in your life or lack thereof. Alls I'm _doing_..." She tilted her head back and forth, cracking her neck, a familiar smirk affixing onto her face, "Is following up some choice gossip. That's what I does, kay?

"And now that you've _answered _said gossip, that's all the face time I needs or _wants_ with you." She flicked her hand in the air, taking a step back, making her countenance cold again.

Rachel shook her head, eyes rolling. "Whatever, Santana," she breezed, pushing past Santana's shoulder only to stop right behind her, "Enjoy believing that."

Glaring at her as she walked away, Santana crossed her arms. "I don't know what you believe," she asserted, "But I can _guarantee _it's not reality."

Turning around in the middle of the hall, Rachel's brown eyes danced. "The only reality I need," she grinned smartly, pulling her jacket tight to her body, "Is that I'm suddenly more than a blip on _your _- and the high school's - radar."


	146. Chapter 146

**A/N: **So this was a DD in response to a prompt I received on tumblr, (FAPEZBERRY PLEASE! prompt: Quinn/Santana established relationship or friends with benefits. Brody is gone or nonexistent. After walking off the set of the student production, Rachel is still not entirely sure she made the right decision. Quinntana takes her home to help erase those lingering doubts... Smut with cuddles?) but it turned out to be more of a prequel to the actual prompt, so here you go! The rest of the prompt to hopefully come soon-ish~ :D

* * *

Rachel's trembling. She's clutching at the loop of the subway, trying to convince herself she's made the right decision. She knows she has. She really does.

But that doesn't mean she's completely okay with it.

Quinn and Santana's words keep repeating in her ears. Her own words to the student director keep on repeating.

Had she... Had she just, colloquially, shot herself in the foot? Had she ruined her future within the artistic, including Broadway, world?

Rachel closes her eyes, pushing her forehead into her own shoulder as she listens to the clacking of the subway car and the getting on and off of strangers. She knows how many stops there are between NYADA and her and Kurt's apartment, so for now, she figures, letting out a deep sigh and forcing herself to exist in some alternate calm universe, she'll pretend it's just like any normal day.

Any normal day.

Any normal day that evaporates as soon as she opens the door to her apartment. There's some sort of upbeat music circling through the space, two familiar voices blending in wonderful laughter. "Quinn? Santana?" she calls out, voice tremulous.

A dark head followed by a blonde one pop up from the couch. "Rache?" Santana seems to blurt, suddenly _there_, more _there _than she'd been the past few years.

"Rachel?" Quinn echoes, hands pushing against Santana's shoulders, cheeks pink and lips swollen as Rachel realizes just _how _close she's been getting with Santana, " I - you're back early. That means...?"

Rachel blinks. "I... Turned it down," she admits, slowly, studying the two girls, "That's... That's right, right?"

Both girls stare at her, suddenly surging up and off the couch, skirting it to reach out towards her.

"Of course!" Santana snaps, fingers brushing along Rachel's wrist.

"That's - we're proud of you!" Quinn says effulgently, smiling, hazel eyes brightening as they meet Rachel's. They soften, snaring Rachel as Santana presses closer, and Rachel suddenly realizes Santana has wrapped her arms around her back.

Rachel lets out a deep sound of question. "S-San...?"

A cold nose rubs along her cheekbone, sharp fingernails biting into her waist. "Berry," Santana sighs, quick, hopeful, short, "Can we - let me... Let _us_..."

It isn't until Quinn presses her lips to Rachel's cheek, just above her own lips, that Rachel realizes just what's going on. Though, perhaps, more startlingly to the normally demure part of her, she isn't surprised.

Somehow, some part of her, knew this was going to happen as soon as she'd opened the door to the two girls.

And, honestly, it's not like she disapproves.

Instead, Rachel finds herself arching into Santana's grip, her hand coming up to slide along Quinn's waist. It's like she'd already planned for this, her fingers slipping into Santana's hair as she pulls Santana's mouth to hers, her other hand making sure Quinn isn't too far enough away to kiss as soon as Santana pulls back.

Tellingly, there's heat and awareness overflowing in her lower stomach, out along her legs and up into her chest, hands kneading and exploring both girls in turn.

Quinn gasps against Rachel's forehead, breath hot and quick. Santana nibbles along her jaw. Rachel, for her part, is trying to force the faintness both girls are giving her away.

"_Wait_," she finally protests, backpedaling, feeling her eyes darken as they meet both girls' gazes in turn, "I need, my – my _bed_?" Her voice strangles at the last word, because she really _doesn't _– no, she really _doesn't _know how far both girls want to go, "Is that, is that _okay_?"

"_Fuck_," Santana hisses, surging forward to kiss her again, body flush against hers, "_More_ than fucking okay!"

"I agree," Quinn whispers heavily as soon as Rachel pulls back from Santana's urgent mouth again, hands pushing against Rachel's waist to lead her to her bed, "_Totally _agree."

Falling back, almost crumpling back against the force of both girls, Rachel stares at the both of them. She doesn't know, not really, how this is supposed to go, seeing as she's never been part of a threesome before, but at least it's not the first time she's been attracted or turned on by either girl. Because Santana and Quinn? They're… They're just _hot_.

Hot and, _fuck_, Rachel finds herself moaning uncharacteristically as Santana grabs at her shirt, Quinn focusing on the zipper of her jeans, _available_.

Too, _too _available.

Quinn's breath flows over Rachel's belly button, sneaking out along the waistband of her underwear. In the opposite hemisphere, Santana is staring down at Rachel's bust, fingers taught and unfamiliar along the bumps of her ribs as she pulls at the edges of Rachel's over-shirt.

"Rache?" Santana murmurs, eyes meeting hers, "You…?"

"_Yes_," Rachel gasps, not even entirely sure what she means aside from there's too much material between her and Santana, "Just get it _off_ already!"

Quinn chuckles, deep and rough, already pulling Rachel's jeans down her legs. "Mmm, oh _Rachel_…" she groans, once taking the piece of clothing off of her after her shoes and socks, "You don't have _any _idea how hot your legs are, _do_ you?"

"Obviously not!" Gasping, laughing, Rachel shivers, feet pushing at Quinn's waist as her hands come up to pull at Santana's hair, "Just – show me?"

Santana's lips curve up, kissing along her jaw, hands sliding up to cup her breasts, slipping under her bra. Quinn, echoing Santana, feels along her thighs, sighing as she brushes her lips along Rachel's belly button and below. "As long as you want," she smiles, nails raking along her thighs, "Forever as long as you want…"


	147. Chapter 147

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

Leaning into Santana's shoulder, Rachel smiled when the girl's warm arm slid around her. "Did you ever think we'd get here?" she asked.

Santana hummed, lips turning up. "Honestly?"

"Yes."

A grinning breath of air left Santana's mouth. "Well..." she began, turning to meet Rachel's eyes, arm falling to circle her waist, "There may have been some doubt."

Smiling, Rachel nodded.

"But once I pulled my head out of my _ass_ and you learned how to not be so _cray-cray_, that didn't last long." Dropping her chin, Santana kissed Rachel's forehead, laughing when Rachel protested and pulled her into a proper kiss. "What about you?" she murmured after they separated.

Rachel pressed her hand to Santana's side, lifting up on her toes to kiss Santana again, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Same," she whispered, smiling, face glowing, "Absolutely the same."


	148. Chapter 148

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Rachel wanted to get Quinn's nose so she has some of Quinn on her face for those God awful times when Quinn isn't actually on it herself. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's pencil kept tapping on the surface of her desk. She knew she was staring at the back of Quinn's head, at Quinn herself, but she couldn't help it. She'd awoken from a particularly steamy wet dream of the blonde earlier that morning, so now felt like that was all she could concentrate on.

It _had _been over a week, due to personal responsibilities, that they'd gotten… Well, _together_. And, well, especially after their shared rhinoplasty consultation, Rachel couldn't help but daydream. Normally, she'd be the most studious of students, but now, after the kind of upheaval she'd had within the past few days, even _that _was asking too much.

'I want Quinn's nose,' she wrote in her notebook, completely ignoring Mr. Schuester's inept attempts at teaching Spanish, 'So I can have some of Quinn on my face for times like these, when I'm aching for her.'

Suddenly, next to her, Santana let out the most judgmental snort Rachel had ever heard. "Are you _serious_, Berry?" she snapped roughly under her breath, "_Like, _stalker ahoy! Are you even _listening _to yourself?"

Rachel flinched. "I'd _thank you_," she hissed, "To keep your eyes to yourself!"

Santana laughed. "Really," she drawled, unconcerned, flashing Rachel's notebook away from her, "You'd think you'd know better, being Quinn's lover.

"Why," she smirked at Rachel, eyebrows quirking, "Would Quinn want to kiss _any _part of herself? No matter how egotistical she _is_, even _she _wouldn't want that."

Licking her lips, Rachel tried to keep her furious feelings to herself. "I'd _thank you_," she repeated, tearing her notebook back to herself, slamming it closed, "To mind your own business!" Taking a deep breath, she only relaxed when Quinn barely swiveled in her chair, glancing back at her.

Her mood immediately smoothing, she smiled at the blonde. How... She wondered, watching as Quinn's gaze softened, pink racing along her cheeks, had she gotten so... _Blessed_?


	149. Chapter 149

**A/N: **Prompt from kingcyrus, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks! Nope, I have no idea. XD

* * *

Santana slowly raised an eyebrow, completely speechless at Rachel hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Rachel stared back at her.

"Normally," Santana finally drawled, gathering her wits and crossing her arms, "I'd make some sort of crack about bondage and dirty sex, but…"

"Yes, that really isn't applicable here." Shaking her head, making her hair swirl in the air only a couple of inches away from Santana's face, Rachel blew out a long, trailing off breath of air. "_Shouldn't_ be applicable here. It's pointless to ask you to turn around and forget all about this, right." It wasn't even a question.

"Just as pointless as you asking for help, because frankly? I have no idea how you got there in the first place, and have no interest in touching you in case you're contagious or something."

"Right, like having my ankles attached to the ceiling by exercise bands would be 'contagious'." Rachel's voice dripped with disdain; staring at Santana for another couple of seconds, almost half a minute, she suddenly jerked, bursting out, "You're just going to stand there until I do something, aren't you? Even if I asked you to turn around, you wouldn't. I know you, Santana. _Ugh_, you're aggravating!"

Snorting, Santana shakes her head. "Wow," she pitched her tone higher, "Like _that's _called for. But yes. You're right. I'm not moving. I wants to see how you're going to get out of this."

Practically snarling, Rachel growled, arching her back and curling in, slowly swinging herself back and forth with the motion of her body. Making Santana step back, she finally built up enough momentum to swing her upper body up, hands gripping and hanging on tightly to the free bands above her feet. Waiting for her body to stop swinging, she grunted but tightened her grip with her left hand, concentrating on not falling as her right fingers go to work on releasing her right ankle. Then, when it got free, instead of allowing herself to fall down, straining her body, she wrapped it around the band still holding her left ankle. "Hate you," it sounded like she was huffing, making quick work of the right band as well, somehow managing to end in a roll in the air, landing on her feet.

Santana, frozen with her mouth open, halfway moving to make sure Rachel didn't kill herself and heading for the phone to call 911, had to catch herself against the table. "What. You. _What_?" she gasped.

Straightening, fixing her hair and clothing, it was Rachel's turn to raise her eyebrow. "You'll never know," she smiled, giving Santana a smug nod, "Now if you'll excuse me?" Walking stately by Santana, giving nothing away of how sore or tight her body should have been, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom.

Santana swallowed. Her fingers twitched. "Wait…" she murmured, "What? _What_?"


	150. Chapter 150

**A/N: **This is my silly little entry for Berrittana Week Day Three: Jealous!Brittana and/or How They Got Together.

* * *

Rachel's stunning.

Brittany and Santana can't stand it.

"That should be _us_," Santana hisses, the constricting of her fingers around her Solo cup making an audible crackling noise.

Brittany, snuggled into Santana's shoulder from behind, arms slung low across her waist, nods, pouting. "She's just…" she sighs, digging her chin into Santana's shoulder, "So lickable. I want to taste her berry."

A quick-abrupt indrawn laugh makes Santana's body waver. "Mmm…" she hums, lips quirking up, fingers stroking her cup, "I want to taste her berries, too."

"She has more than one?"

Santana wraps her free arm around Brittany's. "Every girl has more than one, B."

"Oh." Sounding thoughtful, Brittany squeezes Santana, lifting her shoulders in a soft shrug, "Cool. Means it'll be easier to share."

"Thank god for that." Santana locks her gaze back across the room where Rachel is sitting between Finn's legs, laughing and glowing at something Puck and Sam are pantomiming. It's just so… Horribly_ adorable_. And heterosexual. Running her tongue along her front teeth, Santana settles back into her girlfriend's body. "That totes should be us."

Brittany nods again. "We need to just get her alone," she says with conviction, swaying her body into Santana's, idly picking up the beat of the music playing over the loudspeakers, "_No one_ can say no to our sweet lady kisses."

Santana's mouth drops open. "You're a _genius_, baby!" she smirks, hugging Brittany's arm while throwing back the rest of her drink before tossing it at the back of Artie's head; disentangling just enough to grab Brittany's hand, she pulls the blonde over to the sound system.

"Well, duh." Grinning, Brittany follows along, "But, wha'd I do?"

"Just wait." Flashing out, rotating the volume dial down in a quick, violent movement, Santana barely waits for everyone's eyes to look over before her smirk grows even bigger and she's propping her free hand on her hip. "What say we make this party _not _god-awful boring anymore?" she says arrogantly, throwing her hand up, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, "And gets some Seven Minutes in Heavens on?

"Of course," she meets Rachel's gaze a minute later as they're all gathering on one side of the room, Brittany warm and giggling against her side, hand sliding up and down her abs, Santana's own hand held suggestively on the blonde's shoulder, stroking along her neck, "Anyone who gets me or Britts?"

Rachel's eyes shine. Her lips part in a curious smile.

"Gets the _both_ of us. And Berry?"

"Yeah, Rachel?" Brittany pipes in, snagging her hand in the loose fabric of Rachel's blouse, teasingly tugging on it.

Rachel tilts her head to the side, eyes flitting back and forth between both girls. Her smile is still open, wide, bright, "Yes?"

"Something tells me _you're_ gonna be the first… _Lucky_… Recipient."


	151. Chapter 151

Staring at the mess of papers on the table in front of her, Rachel felt like ripping all the hair out of her scalp. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that would damage her image, as well as make even _more _of a problem for herself, so, after a couple of deep breaths and whispered prayers to the late Sarah Bernhardt, she managed to force the urge to subside.

"You look like you're exhausting yourself," Santana, clad in a tank top and her pajama pants, used as a greeting, walking up behind her to slide her arms around her neck. "Stop doing that."

"What, the wedding invitations or exhausting myself?"

"Let's go with both." Santana pressed a sound kiss against Rachel's cheek, sliding around to take over her lap. She settled in comfortably. "C'mon," she pulled Rachel's hands forward to circle her waist, smirking and raising an eyebrow, "I know a smokin' hot mama who wants to have some fun."

Rachel grinned, shaking her head. "You do, huh?" she leaned forward, bumping her nose against Santana's, "Do _I_ know this 'hot mama'?"

"If you're who I think you are, then you're _marrying _the smokin' hot mama." Santana's lips parted in an easy smile, her eyes darkening as they met Rachel's. "Relax, Rache," she breathed, leaning in to kiss Rachel's cheek again, caressing her neck and upper back, fingers playing with strands of her hair, "It's not worth it. Everyone who's anyone already knows about the wedding."

"But – "

"When, and where, what to bring, yadda yadda." Curling her fingers around the back of her fiancée's head, Santana pulled her into a deep, melting kiss. Their chests pressed together and her waist tight and solid under Rachel's hands, Santana's hair fell to tickle Rachel's shoulders. "_Later_," she cajoled, proudly drinking in Rachel's shivers and shifting closer, "Now's our fun time."

A soft moan leaving her mouth, Rachel swallowed, lifting her chin to brush her lips against Santana's hovering barely a centimeter away. "You're not playing fair." She pulled back, cheeks dimpling as she bit her swollen lower lip, looking at Santana from under her eyelashes.

Santana kissed her again. "I guess that's one thing you'll have to get used to when we're married," she husked.

Rachel's fingers traced the waistband of Santana's pajamas. "Believe me, Santana," she promised in between deepening, fiery kisses, body opening to accept Santana's, "That is one thing I am very, very much looking forward to."


	152. Chapter 152

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; what if, for Halloween, Rachel dressed up as Bubblegum Princess and Santana was Marceline? Well, I tried. Thanks!

* * *

It had taken longer than she would have preferred, but Santana had finally cornered Rachel in the kitchen. "Bonnibel..." she smirked, hand planted behind Rachel's shoulder, forearm barely brushing against her pink wig, "If I had to guess, you've been avoiding me."

"Marceline," Rachel sniffed, standing up straight, eyes barely flickering from Santana's, "What are you doing? I have some..." Her lips pouted, drawing Santana's gaze, "_Science_!" The two Solo cups of questionable alcohol in her hands bobbed up and down, "To disperse between me and the human hero, Finn."

...So _not _original, it being Finn Rachel was talking about. If it had been _Sam_, with his already blond hair, why not? But no, it was Finn.

Santana scoffed. "My dear _princess_," she lowered her voice, adopting her ever-ready arrogant tone, "Finn can wait. No..." Raising her other hand, she stroked a strand of tacky pink hair from Rachel's neck, thumb resting almost directly over a jumping vein; leaning in, she exposed a fang-filled grin, "You have some red I'd love to drink from your pretty pink face."

Rachel swallowed. Her tongue darted out, wetting sinfully pink frosted lips. "Marceline?"

Santana fluttered her eyelashes. "Bonnie..." she cajoled, upping her amused smirk, drawing back enough to give Rachel space to breathe, repeating, "Finn can wait."

Green contacted eyes continued staring up at her. "What Was Missing regardless," Rachel finally started, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth, "_Marcy_, Finn _is _waiting for me and I'd rather _not _keep him so."

Santana's jaw flexed. "Bonnibel," she smiled, sugar sweet, softly tracing up Rachel's neck, finally curling her fingers around the other girl's ear and jaw; Rachel's eyes shut, cheek barely pressing into Santana's hand, the back of one of her hands coming up to rest against Santana's arm, "Wouldn't you rather _we_ be catching up instead?"


	153. Chapter 153

**A/N: **So I got this prompt from an anon: what if Rachel was the Robin Hood of Lima, stealing from the rich giving to the poor, and Santana just "happens" to catch her in the act? I'm not completely satisfied that what I've written is the best of where I could go with this prompt, so that's why I'm labeling this Version A. Thanks!

* * *

Jiggling her key in the lock, Santana sighed. Though it was normal for the key to stick, tonight was _not _a night she was going to be accepting of it. She had gotten a hot lead, and said hot lead had told her she needed to be waiting in the penthouse of the rich side of town apartment building she was head of security for. Pushing the key farther into the lock and turning it to the right before trying the left again, she didn't let up until she heard the tumbler finally relent its locked status. Shoving the door open, her gaze immediately flew to the large living room window.

If anything, that was the most likely spot for entry.

Shouldering her pack, hand covering her favorite gun at her hip for reassurance, she pulled one of the kitchen chairs over to the covering darkness of the bathroom. Settling down, assured and cautious in turns, she waited.

Less than an hour later, a small dark shape was pulling itself into the apartment. Unconsciously tensing her body and holding her breath, Santana didn't move until the shape had fully turned from the window, "Berry."

Rachel Berry, so-called Robin Hood of Lima, flinched, pivoting on a toe a second later to meet Santana's gaze through the dark holes of a ski mask. Her shoulders relaxed with a sigh, small gloved hands stripping off the mask a second later. "Santana."

Taking in flat, mussed bangs and an equally affected ponytail, Santana cracked a smile. "Really?" she rose, dropping her pack onto the chair and striding over to wrap her hand around Rachel's shoulder, "You offer yourself up so easily? Tsk." She clucked her tongue, smile curling up her lips, "You should be more careful, Berry."

Rachel's hands slid around Santana's waist. She smiled at Santana, eyes shining in the light of the moon outside, "What makes you so sure I wasn't the one who tipped you off?"

Fingers pushing flat bangs behind Rachel's ear, stroking her soft skin, Santana grinned; she cupped the younger woman's cheek, pushing her chin up and dropping her head to meet her halfway. "Oh, I _counted _on it," she purred, pulling Rachel closer, "Definitely counted on it."


	154. Chapter 154

**A/N: **This is a follow-up to Pieces #470, asked for by an anon. Thanks!

* * *

Later that evening, wrapped up in her flimsy blankets, still barely occupying space in the back area of the partitioned living room, Santana can hear Finn and Rachel's enamored exchange behind the curtain that divides Rachel's space from the rest of the loft. Her head hurts, her throat tightens. Even pushing her pillow over her head doesn't make enough of a difference.

Couch springs creaking, she moves.

It's almost as if Kurt's not surprised. "You snore?" he asks groggily, shifting over to one side of his bed.

"No," Santana whispers back, thick and halting, shivering as she slides under his covers. It smells like Armani and lavender, she dimly notes as she curls on her side, facing away from him. Second-hand warmth seeps into her. She forces herself to relax. At least she's not alone.

But…

Even though Kurt's breaths are loud, they're not loud enough.

When Kurt's fingers skim along her shoulder, barely taking her attention away from the happenings across the loft, from the sounds of Rachel and Finn, Santana realizes the tears burning at the back of her eyes aren't just apparent to herself.

"C'mon," Kurt sighs, sounding both pitying and understanding, "If you're going to be an idiot, at least let's be idiots together."

Saying nothing as thin, strong arms wrap around her, Santana forces her ears to focus on the chest behind her.

Better that, than…

"No," she grunts, suddenly _uncomfortable_, sitting up enough to turn over, spooning Kurt almost in spite, "If anything, _I _should be holding _you_. You're more of a girl than _I _am."

Obviously rolling his eyes, Kurt doesn't put up much of a fight. "Fine…" he sighs, sharp angles but warm, a body, distracting, "Fine… Night."

Santana doesn't answer. Even curled around Kurt, hidden in his blankets and focusing on his breathing…

Even in someone else's bed…

Even there…

She can still hear them.


	155. Chapter 155

**A/N: **Prompt from rach-tana, who provided the first sentence. Thanks! I swear I am not responsible for whatever shows up in my drabbles. XD

* * *

"I think you've had one too many of those purple lollipops, Berry."

Protesting, making grabby hands as Santana pulled the bunch of remaining lollipops away, Rachel pouted heavily. "Honestly, Santana," she crossed her arms, glaring sullenly, "I don't know what your problem with them _is_."

Turning so any lunge by the younger girl would be blocked by her back, Santana rolled her eyes as she stuffed the candy into the pocket of her Cheerio jacket draped over the chair next to her. "You don't even know what's _in _them, do you," she drawled, "So shut it with the passive-aggressive shit."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. The tip of a purple tongue coming out to lick along her upper lip, she waited until Santana was facing her again to put on her award winning Rachel Barbra Berry puppy dog eyes; even so, one of her eyebrows twitched, ruining the effect.

"Hmm?" Santana smirked.

Next, Rachel's lips twitched. "Nothing," she coughed lightly, uncrossing her arms to smooth down the hem of her skirt, looking back up at Santana with a slightly less eager smile on her face. "I... They're just _candy_. I can indulge, once in a while. My morning routine allows for it, as long as I don't eat too many in one day."

"Right, and _seven _isn't too many." Crossing her legs, Santana rested her hands on her knee, settling back into her chair; raising her chin, she surveyed Rachel smugly from under her eyelashes, "Berry, tell me. Who gave you them?"

"Brittany, but what does that have to do with any - ?"

"And where did _Britts _get them?"

Rachel opened her mouth, but had to close it a couple of seconds later as her eyes unfocused in thought. "She - didn't say. But still?"

Shaking her head, Santana smirked, sitting up and uncrossing her legs so she could lean forward to come to eye level with Rachel. "Berry, let me let you in on a little _secret_," she lowered her voice, curling her finger to get Rachel to meet her halfway, "Brittany gets these lollipops from her grandmother. And where is her grandmother?" Without waiting for an answer, she tapped Rachel's shoulder, making her look down before tapping her forehead, then the back of her hand, enjoying the slight lag in Rachel's responses, "Does the 'largest rest home drug lab on the Eastern seaboard' get through to you?

"See," she pulled back, ticking on her fingers, "Purple makes you addictively euphoric, blue gives you hallucinations, red increases your libido, and green? That's my favorite. Mary J's got nothin' on it. So." Santana watched Rachel's eyes widen then dart around, the girl grabbing the nearest glass of water to start chugging it down, "Congrats! You're high!"

"Will it - will it go _away_?" Rachel garbled, "I mean, if there was a sudden drug test anytime soon? Am I going to get into trouble? What if - am I _addicted_? I _can't_ be addicted! I - Santana!" She started flapping her hands in the air around her face, staring at Santana like she held her only lifeline, "What do I _do_?"

"Well, first of all," Santana grabbed Rachel's hands, pushing them down to Rachel's lap and keeping hold of them so she couldn't use them, "Freaking the fuck _out_ certainly won't do anything other than make anyone with half a brain suspicious. And, sorry to disappoint, but you should be fine once you're not under the influence. So. Sweetie." Tightening her hand around Rachel's before patting them lightly, Santana sat back, bringing her water glass to her own mouth, "Just be your normal, _non_-cool self, and it'll filter out of your system. As long as you don't eat any more, _damn_ girl!" Managing to set her glass down before slapping Rachel's hand away from reaching for her Cheerio jacket, she sighed. "_Really_?"

Award winning Rachel Barbra Berry puppy dog eyes sparkled at her again as a light flush rose across Rachel's cheeks. "I'm sorry," the smaller girl sighed, slowly morphing into looking both chastised and frustrated, "But, they're right _there_. And I have nothing to distract me."

Santana's eyebrows automatically quirked up. She scoffed. "_Wow_, _Berry_, you know _how_ to treat a girl." Pushing back from the table, she threw her hand up, her other resting confidently on her hip as she cut off any response Rachel could have given her, "Well, what are you waiting for? Seems like there's a dance floor, as most _lame_ events like these practically _promise_. It's, like, in their contracts or whatever. So, whatever, how's about you show me what you's got?" A real smile threatened to escape. "_Yentl_."

A couple seconds passed of Rachel stupidly staring at her. Then, "Thank you, Santana," she smiled, standing up.

Santana rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. Shuts up and get _over _here already."


	156. Chapter 156

**A/N: **Prompt from intheforestofthenight, who gave me the first sentence. Thank you!

* * *

"Rachel, there is no way in hell I'm getting into that Care Bear suit for Quinn's birthday party."

"You are if you want any sex for the next week," Rachel informed her without looking away from the wrapping paper she was currently cutting.

Santana's jaw set, her eyes narrowing as she took in the unconcerned form of Rachel Berry. "Yeah, like you'd be able to deal with that," she snorted.

Pushing a stray lock of her hair behind her shoulder, Rachel smiled smugly at the book she folded the newly cut wrapping paper over; pulling off a perfect sized piece of tape and affixing it to the two edges over the book's back cover, she stuck her tongue into her cheek. "Mmhm. If you say so."

"I'm _not_, Rachel. I'm not."

Rachel was glad her back was to her… Girlfriend? Well, whatever they were - booty call, friends with benefits, screw bunnies - she was just glad Santana couldn't see her face. If she could, Rachel knew she wouldn't have the leverage she did. And oh, was it good leverage. Breathing in deeply, she tilted her butt back, in as alluringly a pose as she could keep.

Crossing her arms, Santana continued glaring at the other girl. If her gaze slipped down to take in the delectable ass and legs perfectly showcased in one of her trademark sinfully short skirts, it wasn't Santana's fault. She still _wasn't _going to climb into that re-_dork_-ulous costume of Birthday Bear. Just… Fuck no.

Rachel's ass flexed as she straightened, finishing with her wrapping and turning to face Santana. With her hip resting against the table's edge, she looked up at Santana through her eyelashes. "You think you can go that long without…" Somewhat self-consciously waving her hand up and down her body, pushing her assets forward and pouting her lips in the way she knew Santana was _powerless _to resist, Rachel tilted her head, "This?"

Only the tic in Santana's jaw belied her true feelings. Drawing herself up straight, Santana glared at her. "Not. Gonna. Happen."

"Oh?" Pushing up, now sitting on the edge of the table and not just leaning against it, Rachel calmly watched Santana take her in. Instead of her normal white panties or boy shorts, Rachel had dressed in one of the sexy undies Tina and Mercedes had convinced her to buy during their last mall hangout. She knew it was practically blackmail and not fair in the least, but she was determined to get Santana to agree. She opened her legs further, enjoying the flaring of Santana's nostrils and darkening of her eyes. She didn't know how she'd gotten this command over Santana she had, but… Rachel bit her lower lip, blushing a little, shifting as the other girl's hungry look started heat in the pit of her stomach, she liked it. She really, really liked it.

That thong was new. Santana's jaw flexed again. She didn't know where this dominant Rachel was coming from, but god help her, she liked it. She liked it, and she wanted to touch her, drink her in, fall to her knees and taste that new thong. Re-centering herself on her feet, Santana stalked forward only when she noticed that Rachel seemed to be having as much trouble keeping her own cool, a sheen of red rising on her cheeks as her teeth worried her lip. Stopping in front of her, resting her palms on the table on either side of Rachel's strong thighs, Santana leaned forward, watching Rachel's eyes watch her. "Why is this so important to you?" she asked.

"Not to me." Shaking her head, Rachel leaned forward so her lips barely danced along Santana's. Feeling the heat of her breath and able to see the effect she was having on Santana through the colors in her eyes, Rachel barely brushed through Santana's bangs, fingers skimming along her forehead and down her cheek and jawline, finally tapering off at her chin. It was the first time they'd touched since Santana had found her in the arts n' crafts room, and she was gratified to see that it affected Santana as much as it affected her.

Barely moving her tongue past her lips, Santana breathed in deeply through her nose as the tip pushed against Rachel's lower lip. "Then to who?"

Lifting her hands, circling Santana's neck and shoulders, shivering as her palms drank in the heat of her skin given to her by her low-necked shirt, Rachel slowly massaged the back of her neck, bringing her a hair's breadth closer. "I can't tell you."

Santana smirked. "This a bet?"

Rachel's fingernails cut into Santana's neck, startling a low moan from her mouth, lips pressing against Rachel's. Kissing back instinctively, moaning even as she pulled back as soon as she realized she'd given in, Rachel swallowed, meeting Santana's dark gaze with a firm pointed look. "Not saying," she said lowly, "But no. Probably not."

Santana hands were suddenly hot and heavy on her hips, Santana pushing her waist and hips between her legs. Forcing Rachel back, flush against her as she moved forward, Santana's smirk grew as her hands curled around Rachel's sides, feeling and curling up and down her ribs and back to splay out along her back. "Tell me," she breathed, drawing another moan from Rachel's throat when she suddenly kissed her deeply, harshly, teeth biting into her tongue.

Rachel surged forward, swinging her legs shut around her sides, fingernails biting into her skin as she kept Santana close. "_No_," she protested, "Just _do _it."

"Why?" Santana's teeth clashed against Rachel's, grunting as the thighs she'd gotten intimately acquainted with locked her in, Rachel's chest and stomach heaving as Santana's tongue plundered her mouth, "Just _tell _me."

"_No_," Rachel persisted, kissing Santana back just as violently before suddenly, physically, pushing Santana back. "No," she sucked in a deep breath, lips already swollen, sweat already a sheen on her forehead and cheeks, raising a hand to point at Santana, "Not until you give in." Making it into a palm to barely keep Santana back when she tried to surge forward again, Rachel could only manage a, "Thank _god_," when Santana snapped a rough, "Fine, whatever, I fucking _want _you," crashing into her a second later, hands already under her blouse and urging it over Rachel's head, lips sucking and teeth nipping on her bra covered nipples and neck and chest and anywhere she could reach.

_Whatever_, Santana repeated in her head, chewing on Rachel's pulse point, pulling her body into hers, this didn't mean anything except she'd have a _hell_ of a favor over Rachel's head. And, _oh_, god, what that could _mean__, _what that could _guarantee_ the next time they were in bed! Feeling the heat of Rachel arching in her, hand falling to cup the apex of her want, Santana smiled ferally as she successfully took over her body, pushing her back and exploring her deeply, _completely_; _totally_ worth getting five minutes of ridicule out of her.

_Totally_.


	157. Chapter 157

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; a creepy pezberry drabble like Santana's a serial killer or something and Rachel's caught her eye. Thanks!

* * *

She's too pretty.

That's Santana's first thought when she spies the small brunette woman leaving the apartment building next to hers. Small and too pretty. Not sparing her a second glance, knowing she's automatically disqualified due to her proximity to her home, Santana keeps her previous appointment.

But by the third or fourth time she's spied the woman in her neighborhood, the too pretty impression doesn't immediately put her off. So, perhaps, unintentionally, Santana finds herself sitting in the cafe across the street. Eyes intent on the entrance to the apartment, she sips her coffee. Not caring that the liquid's too hot to be comfortable to her tongue and lips, she barely blinks as the woman she's been observing enters the same café. Maybe, she thinks, dabbing her napkin against her mouth, she'll recognize her?

But she doesn't, and Santana relaxes, watching the smaller woman's body leave the café with barely a glance around. She's pretty, she's unobservant, and maybe this can happen.

Rising from her seat, her spoon clacking lightly in the coffee cup, she sweeps up her bag, shouldering it as she heads for her apartment. She still hasn't figured out if she wants to dare this close to where she lives.

When she gets into her own apartment, lock sliding loudly in the cool air, she takes in the obvious signs that her super has been in, leaving her sink and, she walks into her bathroom, her bathroom still with cold water. She frowns. If she's going to move, she thinks she has more leeway.

So. This petite woman. Santana walks to the window, peering over at the other apartment, trying to guess which one belongs to her with the faintest of eager smiles on her face. Careful, she thinks, smile widening, your time is ticking up.

Run, run, oh, run as fast as you can.


	158. Chapter 158

**A/N: **Originally a request for a Piece, I believe, but oh well, for DreamingLittleThing; a Faberrittana foursome. Thanks!

* * *

When Hiram and Leroy opened the door expecting to see a tuxedo-clad Finn there to collect their daughter, they were two people and wrong gender too short. "Ladies?" Leroy managed, pulling the door open farther to get a better look at Santana, Quinn, and Brittany.

"Papas Berry," Santana nodded, Brittany beaming as Quinn played with the lovely green corsage on her wrist.

"San…tana?" Leroy tried, finally remembering his manners and moving back to let the three in, trying, "Brittany… And… Quinn?" as each passed him.

Hiram smiled neutrally, "How may we help you?"

"We're here for Rachel," Brittany answered, pausing in her perusal of the Berry home, "Duh."

A grin flickered across Quinn's face. "What she means," she stepped in, laying her hand on Brittany's arm, "Is that we're here to pick your daughter up."

"Yeah," Santana echoed, crossing her arms and giving the two men a severe look, "She ready?"

Hiram and Leroy exchanged glances. "She's… Upstairs. Are you going to meet Finn at the dance?"

"Finn?" Santana snorted, a smirk curling her lips up.

"Not if we have anything to say about it," Brittany nodded, smiling cheerfully.

"At least for dancing with Rachel," Quinn finished, as if she realized how they sounded.

Leroy put a hand to his forehead. He didn't get this.

Lifting his eyebrows, Hiram nodded. "Well, questions… Aside, may I interest you in anything to drink?"

All three girls declined. Instead, eyes continuously glancing at the staircase, they finally gave in and invited themselves upstairs, first Brittany then Quinn then Santana, who seemed insistent on continuing to smirk at them for as long as she could.

"I… I don't know if I'm reading this right…" Leroy took a deep breath.

Hiram patted his shoulder. "Oh," he looked at where the girls had disappeared to, "I think you are."

Meeting his gaze, Leroy finally shook his head. "Well, while our little girl certainly has something to explain, I guess we better get the camera ready."

Squeezing his shoulder this time, Hiram kissed his husband's cheek. "Sounds like a plan."


	159. Chapter 159

**A/N: **Prompt from intheforestofthenight; Rachel and Santana's son gets into a fight with another kid over the kid repeating something nasty about them. When both women get to the school, they find out that even though the teacher wants to punish both kids, the principal only wants to punish their son. Cue the emergence of Mama Bear Rachel before Santana can get a word out. It's the first time I've tried to write something like this! XD Thanks!

* * *

"No," Santana replied again, barely looking away from the steering wheel, "I don't know exactly what this is about."

"But we _should _know," Rachel frowned outside the windshield, "If Trent's in trouble, shouldn't we know?"

Disengaging her hand from the stick shift, Santana felt for her wife's hand, curling around it as soon as she found it. "I agree we should," she met Rachel's gaze, "But at least we're almost there."

"Good." Barely settling down, Rachel squeezed Santana's hand.

In silence, they continued the drive. However, as soon as Santana pulled into the first free parking space nearest the principal's office, Rachel was already out and striding towards the school.

Used to her wife's impatient personality, Santana quickly followed. Still, finding herself the voice of reason was new to her, even if she wasn't surprised; Trenton was their baby, and anything concerning him and getting in trouble with the school had always seemed to affect Rachel more than Santana. As long as he was still able to attend school and keep his grades up, she was fine with it. Rachel, however, was a whole different story.

Joining Rachel in time to enter the principal's office at the same time, Santana felt for the secretary as soon as her wife laid eyes on her. "We're here concerning Trenton Lopez-Berry. We're his parents."

The woman, older than the secretary at William McKinley High School had been, stared at them. "...Oh," she finally nodded, blinking, "Wait a second, please." Pressing what looked to be an intercom, her eyes raked over them, answering a disembodied male voice a second later, "Mrs. and Mrs. Lopez-Berry to see you, sir."

"Send them in."

Nodding, the woman straightened. "Go ahead."

Giving her a tight-lipped smile, Santana followed Rachel in.

Recognizing the portly man as the principal of the junior high because of meeting him before Trenton had even attended his school and not because he was sitting behind the desk, Rachel and Santana marched up to him. Taking note of Trenton and another boy and one of his teachers in the chairs spread out at the back of the room, Santana flashes him a quick smile; she, separate from her wife, is more willing to give him the benefit of doubt.

"Mr. Trawley," Rachel clipped, holding out her hand, "Nice to meet you."

"And you, Miss Berry!" he stated, standing up quickly, eyes goggling again when he noticed Santana behind her, offering her hand as well, "And you, Miss Lopez!"

"Mrs. Berry-Lopez," Santana corrected him sharply, "For this appointment, at least."

The principal blanched. "Quite right," he muttered, then ushered them to the two seat next to their son. Rachel plopping into the one immediately next to him, Santana settled for the one next to her wife. This should be good.

"So," Rachel said tightly, "Why are we here?"

"For stupid-ass reasons," Trent muttered.

"_Trent_," Mrs. Appleton reprimanded him, taking Santana and Rachel's words out of their mouths, "Be quiet. Let me explain."

The unnamed boy on the other side of her snorted. "Whatever," he muttered.

"_Mike_," Mr. Trawley said pointedly, "I would suggest that it would be in your best interest to keep quiet."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he repeated, unimaginatively.

Santana snorted.

Pressing her fingers into her thigh, Rachel gave her a pointed look before turning back to the other two adults in the room. "Well? What is going on?"

Mrs. Appleton straightened. "Though I don't condone your son's actions, I feel that he is only at fault equally as Mike was, here. Mike, as far as I have gotten out of him and other students, as well as your son, was, well..." Her lips pursed, eyes barely able to meet Rachel and Santana's. "Suffice to say he was saying something unsavory about the two of you."

"The two of us?" Santana gritted out, shifting in her seat. Rachel's body tightened next to her.

"Yes, well," Mr. Trawley butt in, "That is 'jumping the gun a bit' as we say."

It was obvious both Santana and Rachel's glares switched to him, as he paled, still pushing forward. "As your son threw the first punch, which is _never _condoned, here, at this establishment, I am fully prepared to hold him solely responsible."

"Mr Trawley!" Mrs. Appleton interjected, "You were not - "

"Be that as it may," the principal waved her off, not paying attention to the darkening on both Santana and Rachel's faces, instead, presumably feeding off of Mike's smug expression, "It is this school's policy that we take in _all _of the facts in a circumstance - "

Even if Santana had wished to unleash the full brunt of her anger, she was cut off by Rachel's sharp voice. "_Excuse_ me," her wife sat forward, bristling, "You only wish to punish _our son_?"

Mr. Trawley stiffly nodded. "We - "

Rachel slashed her hand up. "I _don't_ want to hear it. If," her gaze flicked to Trent and his teacher, lips flattening, "As your very trustworthy teacher puts forth that Mr... _Mike_, here..." Her voice sounded as impressed with him as Santana felt, "Started the incident, shouldn't he be punished with the same judicial standard as my son?"

The man spluttered. "Excuse me, Miss Berry - "

"_Mrs. Berry-Lopez_," Rachel hissed.

Trenton stifled a laugh.

"Mrs. Berry-Lopez," Mr. Trawley corrected himself, "I'm not sure you realize the extent of this happenstance - "

"This _happenstance_," Rachel repeated, sitting forward, glare growing even darker, "Just so happens to be my son's future! And, if as more than _one _reputable source..." Her eyes flicked to Trent and Mrs. Appleton, followed by a quick disdainful glance at Mike, "Cites someone _else _as the driving factor with _sue-able _language, not to mention, as I may guess, _liable homophobic statements_, should that _not_ be taken into account...?"

Trent's whole visage sobered as he nodded, anger once again taking over his face, cheeks erupting in red as he spat out, "That's right! He _fucking_ called you - you something I don't _ever _want to repeat." Reaching over to touch his clenched fist, Santana was gratified when he only met her eyes and nodded instead of flinching away. It helped some of her simmering anger bleed into pride. She'd address his use of fuck later.

"Because honestly," Rachel leaned forward even more, glancing at Trent quickly, eyes narrowing before pinning Mr. Trawley in his chair, "What I hear is something my _close_, _personal _contact within the ACLU would be _happy _to expose to the public. Would you like that, sir?" She cocked her head, staring at him, "Would you like the _hailstorm _of publicity I bring to this school? As, it is quite _obvious _that this is, sir, a hate crime."

Santana could hear the tremble in her wife's voice. She knew how much Rachel hated to drag that card into play, as well as it was a reminder of how they could affect their son's life. It didn't matter to her, however. Not at this moment. Honestly, she was _so _proud of her at this moment.

Rachel continued. "As far as I can tell," her voice lowered, "My son is still at fault. He _should_ be reprimanded, as we have _never _supported violence!"

Trent flinched away from his mother's gaze, swallowing but nodding. Hereally _did _know that.

"But I do not understand this _unwillingness _to punish the instigator of this, as I am assuming, _incident_. If I am mistaken," Rachel tossed her head back, fixing the principal with her harshest glare, "Please, tell me now. Hmm? Has anything I've said been _wrong_?"

Swallowing, Mr. Trawley, finally unable to take the electricity bombarding him through her eyes, looked away. "Fine," he stammered, "Let's wait until Mike's parents get here. We shall discuss it then."

"_Good_," Santana sat forward, interrupting so Rachel could have some time to calm down before they showed up, giving her a supportive gleam of her eye before unleashing the full extent of her Snix fury on her son's principal, "We have _all_ the _time_ in the _world_, Mr. Trawley."


	160. Chapter 160

**A/N: **An anon asked for Pezbeberry, and before I realized it was Santana/past!Rachel/current!Rachel as I had written before, this is what I'd gotten done and cleaned up. XD Thanks!

* * *

Santana had a Berry twin against each hip. Walking down the main hallway of McKinley High, she didn't give a fuck what anyone else thought. What she knew was that she was a hot bitch who had seduced not one but _both _of the other hottest girls in school. (Total chance was that both were open to lady lovin', but whatever. She wasn't going to look too far into it.)

Rachel on her left, Harley on her right, she knew no one was stupid enough to step into their way. In the beginning, a few had dared to confront her (them) puffing up and posturing as if they knew shit. But ever since Santana had introduced them to the sharp ends of her razor blades and successfully gotten herself off without punishment, most people left them alone.

"That certainly sounds like something I want to do," she smiled at Rachel's proposition that they meet up after Cheerio practice, taking Santana's car over to the Berry household where their fathers would be out of town.

"Yes..." Harley smiled, fingers stroking along the strip of skin between Santana's Cheerio top and skirt, "Out for the weekend."

Santana smirked. "Well, damn girls..." she sighed, arms tightening around both girls' waists, "But how in the hell could I turn that down?"


	161. Chapter 161

**A/N:** Prompt from an anon; childhood meeting. I don't know. XD Thanks!

* * *

The only way Santana's parents had agreed to her and her siblings having a pet dog was that they would get the best training they could for the newest member of the Lopez household. And since Santana was the only one old enough who didn't have prior obligations, she was the one who found herself in the local Petsmart, the newly named Chewbacca kept solidly sitting on her feet. Feeling out of place and awkward, having a dog already half her size chilling between her legs, the young girl had automatically perked up when another young girl, around her age, holding onto the leash of another larger size dog, entered the training enclosure.

Pretending not to care so much, Santana still acknowledged the girl when she took the seat next to her. "Hi," she whispered ten minutes into the lesson.

The girl flicked her eyes at her. "Hi," she whispered back, lips widening in a broad smile, a hand coming down to idly pat the back of her mastiff.

Santana stroked her golden retriever in unconscious mimicry. Secure that the Petsmart employee was concentrated on a Chinook puppy on the other side of the pen, she whispered again, meeting bright brown eyes, "Your first dog?"

The girl dipped her head. "You?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck."

Nodding her head, accepting the wish and giving a similar one back, Santana still managed to miss the girl leaving as soon as the class was over. Having spent most of lesson together, in a kind of camaraderie, she allowed herself to feel a sense of disappointment, losing herself in Chewie's fur in guise of concentrating solely on him.

Still, Rachel Berry, as the girl had introduced herself as, was now forever written into Santana Lopez' memory. What would happen with that, however, would have to wait to be seen.


	162. Chapter 162

**A/N: **An anon asked for Sebastian/Rachel/Santana. Somehow I kind of like this...? Thanks!

* * *

They met up at the Lima Bean, each there for a different reason but all with time to spare. First it was Santana sitting in a far chair, legs crossed and tapping away on her phone. Coming upon her five minutes later, Sebastian couldn't resist engaging his favorite adversary. Lost in barbed whips and faux admissions of respect, needled compliments, neither noticed when Rachel approached, laying her hand on Santana's shoulder to alert her she was behind her. Joining the conversation, she gave as good as got, seeming to find fun in the back-and-forth when far away from actual competition. Eventually, without their knowing, their drinks became cold, obligations catching up to them. Tossing goodbyes, Santana first, then Sebastian and Rachel, none of the trio thinking anything of what had happened, they still were less likely disinclined the next time it happened.

And the time after that.

In time, it became a weekly thing, helped by summer lows without the stress of school and not yet approaching relocation to their respective colleges and college towns. It was just them, all three surprisingly more alike than any would have liked to think just a month before. Really, each was lonely, without Finn or Brittany or Blaine, and together, they moved on.

When Rachel called for an overnight party halfway through summer, her parents gone and only Santana and Sebastian in attendance, it didn't seem too strange. They only had a couple more weeks together before all were off to three different parts of the country, after all. In fact, though none would admit it except perhaps Rachel, they were all thankful for the reprieve from their normally stifling households.

It started slowly, drinks and snacks dispersed as they put in Rent, of course, splayed on the living room couches before Santana pulled out the bottles of alcohol she'd gotten Puck to get for her. Sebastian, for his part, had also brought "Vitamin D", remembering the tales they girls had regaled him with some time before. He thought it was hilarious, and after good naturedly throwing her popcorn at him, Santana slugging his shoulder, Rachel agreed.

So by ten that night, all three, coaxed in turn by a smirking ex-Cheerio and imperial ex-Warbler, were high on decongestants and tipsy on alcohol. Rachel the first gone, dancing to the stereo as she showed off what her various dance classes had taught her, Santana joining in minutes later as soon as the overwhelming energy hit, it hadn't taken Sebastian long to finally give in and add his own skills to the show, only a couple of extra shots needed to get him to open his shirt and let go. Laughing, egging him on, Rachel and Santana joined in, Santana's fingers sliding along Rachel's waist to help her, Rachel's tangling in Santana's bra soon after and almost falling to the floor in laughter.

It eventually became a sing-off, each three butting in on each other's "turns", voices melding and dueling, harmonizing or overshadowing in turn. Unsurprisingly, in a way, all three realized that between the competition, they sounded wonderful together. And collapsing on the couch in a tangle of limbs and laughter, Sebastian smothered by the two girls with his arms under each, curling them into him, maybe it wasn't such a surprise, either, when laughter turned into spur of the moment kisses and stares and more kisses and mumbles of questions and reassurances and throwing things to the wind. They all felt it, whatever _it _was; they were all lonely, and what they'd created was special, and it really shouldn't matter beyond that.

In the morning, it was a testament to the feelings and strengths and realities of all three that nothing seemed to have changed between them. Aside from soft coughs and light blushes and a deeper awareness of intensity underlining their interactions, they were still friends, even possibly better friends because of what had happened that night.

The weekly Lima Bean hangouts still happened the few weeks before departure, meet ups at Santana and then Sebastian's houses happening as well. They were friends, good friends, but it wasn't until the last time they knew for sure all three were going to be there that anything intimate happened again. It was slow, sober, but full of laughter and true affection. Even if none of them had ever expected to become friends with each other, the only ones truly able to understand and foster their talents, it was truth that now they had something. Expressed in intimacy of a different kind, it didn't mean it was any less real. It didn't mean it was any less special.

A last kiss to both girls' foreheads, Sebastian was the first off, his taller form moving away through airport security. He'd given them his signature cocky smirk, squeezing their hands before moving away. He'd looked perfect, handsome, and it was only because she'd hidden her face in Santana's shoulder that Rachel didn't burst out crying. They were down one, and it felt strange.

Half a week later, it was Rachel's turn to leave. She'd spent the morning in Santana's arms, just hugging her, Sebastian helpful and distracting via Skype. New York was where she was supposed to be, after all, and it wasn't like they'd stop being friends. First night on Broadway and movie opening and game to cheer for, they'd all be there. They'd promised, and this promise they'd sworn to keep. Pressing her lips to Santana's cheek in echo of Sebastian's goodbye, Rachel waved through the window of the train. Alone, her heart hurt for Santana.

Alone, Santana's heart hurt for the two best friends she'd made that summer. At least, she thought, watching the train speed off, Rachel's face lost to the track and Sebastian's smiling understandingly at her through her phone, this would be a summer none of them, Santana and Sebastian and Rachel, would be likely to forget.


	163. Chapter 163

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Santana convinces Rachel not to leave her. I'm sure this isn't exactly what they wanted, but oh well. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's done. She loves Santana, but it just… Isn't enough. Not anymore. Not as she sees the future.

Hands curled deeply in her jacket pockets, lower lip squarely stuck between her teeth, she sits on the picnic table nearest _their _spot. The spot where they first kissed, where they had their first fight and make-up, the spot where they first said "I love you"s. Closing her eyes, Rachel pushes her chin into her chest.

The spot where they break up?

Familiar steps crunch in the snow, Santana's voice rough with the cold making Rachel look up with its oblivious happiness. "Baby," Santana laughs, "You look _frozen_. Come here."

Letting Santana enfold her in her arms, burying her icy nose into her neck, Rachel tells herself she's not going to cry. Not yet.

Sliding her hands up and down Rachel's back, over her jacket, Santana, ignorant of her girlfriend's thoughts, presses a heavy kiss to the side of her head. "Mmm… Missed you," she murmurs.

Rachel closes her eyes. Instead of answering, she presses closer into her. She _loves _this. _Loves _how Santana feels.

Seemingly ignoring Rachel's lack of answer, Santana pulls back enough to brush warm lips against the tip of Rachel's cold nose, a burst of heat Rachel's not sure is comfortable. "Hey!" Rachel's still girlfriend laughs, "Suddenly mute? Call the presses!"

A sob leaves Rachel's mouth.

"Hey, whoah, babe?" Fingers finding purchase on either side of her waist, Santana frowns at her, moving back far enough that Rachel has to look at her. "Rachel?"

"I…" Rachel swallows. Santana's eyes are too beautiful. She can't look away. She can't do this. Her heart's beating so fast she wonders if she'll be able to continue breathing.

Santana's eyes widen. Her fingers tremble along Rachel's cheek. "Rachel?"

Rachel can feel the heat of her words in the air. They're worse than her touch. "I… I don't know…"

Shuffling on her feet, attempting to stand straighter, swallowing as her face grows pale, Santana gasps, "_Rachel_?"

Staring at her, Rachel can feel – she can _feel _– just how much she honestly loves this girl. And in that second, in the white of Santana's terrified gaze, in her gulped silence, Rachel realizes just how much she _can't _do this. Why? Because they're going to different colleges? Because they won't be together, _physically_? If they love each other, isn't that enough?

Swallowing, Rachel smiles, it her turn to cup Santana's face. "It's okay," she murmurs, voice catching as her resolve grows, as tears get blinked back from Santana's eyes, "I'm sorry, but it's okay. _Promise_."

"Rachel?"

It never ceases to amaze Rachel how she's actually the strongest one in their relationship. Leading Santana's face forward, kissing her strongly and promising everything she can't say, everything she can't share, she loses herself in the girl she love's arms. "I'm yours," she smiles, making sure the pounding of her heart is answered by Santana's, racing against her chest, her lips warm against hers, "I'm yours until you don't want me."


	164. Chapter 164

Clomping into the building, barely paying attention to the dregs of snow still stuck to her boots, Rachel sighed at how unexciting the mail was. You'd think, she shook her head, sticking the mail into the pocket of her jacket, that the life of an ingénue and budding fashion icon and dancer would be more exciting. However, bending over to force the ancient elevator gate closed, she waited as patiently as she could for the antique to deposit her at her loft. Sure it gave her some art school student cred to live where she did, but it didn't mean she had to like everything about it.

Bending to push the gate back open once it reached her floor, Rachel shouldered her bag, affixing a smile onto her face in preparation to entering her loft. Ever since Brody and Finn, she'd felt the need to present herself as centered. Happy. Not lonely in the least. For whoever was home, she was ready.

To her surprise, both roommates were already there.

The last to wrap her scarf around the offered hook after removing her jacket and placing the mail on the mail table, Rachel called out softly, not even trying to be heard over the murmurs of the TV in the living room area and the music throbbing from Santana's partition. "Oh?" she slid into the space next to Kurt on the couch, following his equally soft, preoccupied answer, "What's on?"

Kurt glanced at her only long enough to offer her the bowl of popcorn he held, "Tootsie. Still got half way to go, so you're good."

"I do like that movie." Smiling faintly, Rachel halfheartedly took the bowl from her friend. It's not like she'd eaten enough that day to warrant abstaining. Taking half a mouthful, she chewed silently for a couple of seconds.

"So how was your day?"

And there it was. Dropping her gaze, making sure not to look at Kurt, Rachel shrugged. "Normal. Cassandra on my ass, not enough fire, _passion_, etc. etc."

Kurt lifted some popcorn to his mouth. "That bitch," he offered slightly distractedly, but Rachel wasn't offended.

"Hot-abbed bitch." One corner of her lips quirked up.

Grey-ish blue eyes finally looked at her. "_Mrow_."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel affectionately knocked his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"Mm-mm, I do."

Reaching out to take the blanket draped across the couch's back, Rachel barely remembered to hand Kurt back the popcorn before she curled under it, thinking of the day Kurt had visited her class and the way he'd responded to her teacher, culminating in him teasing her about making up for lost time and if she needed his Shakira tapes. "So you watch this from the beginning?" she asked, stalling for some kind of topic change. Her class and Cassandra July reminded her of Brody, which reminded her of Finn, which reminded her of Brody, which reminded her of Finn, and so on. A never ending cycle she really didn't need to relive 24/7.

Kurt shrugged. "Practically. Doesn't matter. I've already seen this more times than I could possibly count."

Taking back the popcorn, Rachel settled into the corner of the couch, barely brushing against or touching Kurt. "Understandable." As a commercial came on, she craned her head back, vaguely looking in the direction of the partitioned sections of the apartment, "So what's Santana up to?"

"Oh, who _knows_." Sighing, Kurt shook his head, "She's been playing music for as long as I've been here, so I don't know if she's choreographing something or high and tripping out."

Rachel snapped her head around to look at him. "You think she's _high_?" she hissed, voice caught flowing between getting lower and higher at the same time.

Kurt gave her a flat mild look. "If she was?"

Her jaw flapping open, Rachel's eyes narrowed then widened, gaze flicking back and forth, "What should we _do_?"

"I believe the _normal _thing would be to join me in _illicit _adventure," Santana's voice floated by them as she walked to the kitchen, "But since you two are such _boring _sheltered puppies, you'd never dare."

Staring at her, Rachel waited until Santana was safely in the kitchen area before she sat up, sniffing while craning her head around.

"...What are you doing?"

"Smelling for the scent of illegal narcotics!" Rachel responded haughtily; really, what _else _would she have been doing?

Instead of joining her, Kurt grabbed back the popcorn, muffling what sounded too much like judging laughter.

Ignoring him, Rachel could feel her forehead wrinkle, her neck starting to pinch. Nothing more than the normal empty space scent that no matter what always permeated the loft and various products utilized by all three inhabitants, as well as... Rachel made a face. The popcorn must have been too close to her.

"Satisfied?" Kurt asked, eyebrows high.

"For now," Rachel answered stubbornly, crossing her arms. Drugs weren't_ anything _to take lightly, especially since there was no telling when a random drug test would come her way. What if it was part of her NYADA experience? Wouldn't they want to separate the druggies from the natural stars like herself?

Santana's high heeled boots clacked back towards them. "Oh god," she drawled, stopping behind Rachel and no doubt smirking, "Is little Miss Good Girl having a crisis of faith? Interested in gettin' some criminal activity on?

"No, really, tell me." Santana leaned on the back of the sofa, uncomfortably close to the side of Rachel's head with her breath hot on her ear, "And I'd be _happy _to introduce you to _unwadding _those granny undies of yours."

Kurt laughed again. "Yeah, like she _wishes_," he shot back, meeting Rachel's glare with an unconcerned shrug, "What? It's _true_. You've only had alcohol, right?"

"Not that it's _either _of your businesses, but I've sworn off alcohol since junior year."

Santana's body swayed behind her. "Wait, what? No. How - my _god_, woman! We's gots to fix that! And _you_! Porcelain. How'd you let this... Miscarriage of justice _happen_? Aren't you, like, her best friend or some crap?"

Her mouth working again, Rachel couldn't believe the conversation going on around her. "No, _no_," she burst forth after barely a pause in the dialogue, "You two are _not _going to get me... _Without my wits_, okay? You're - you're just not. End of discussion."

A husky chuckle took over her ear as Santana leaned down further, closer to her; her nostrils still flaring as she realized she hadn't stopped breathing in deeply, Rachel caught the smell of Santana's expensive perfume and shampoo, "Aren't you always going on about living life to the fullest? And how you want to be taken seriously? Well...?"

"_No_."

Kurt rustled as he sat up, turning to face her more directly, catching her attention. "Rachel. It's been practically two years. We're older… _Wiser_…" He smirked at her. "I'm not going to be another gay for you to make out with…"

A sharp laugh left Rachel's mouth, partly from embarrassment and partly from being completely caught off guard. "_Kurt_."

Santana laughed as well, her presence leaving Rachel's back as she stood up. "C'mon," she cajoled, walking around to drop into the space between Rachel and Kurt, making herself at home and not caring that both had to shift and move away from under her, grumbling; she slid her arms around the back of the couch, behind the two, crossing her legs and smiling broadly, eyebrows quirking, "With that promise, what are you waiting for?"

Rachel frowned at her. She ignored the intrusion of Santana's leg against her own.

"_Fiiiiine_." Santana affected a perfectly put-upon tone, exchanging glances with Kurt, who nodded and rolled his eyes, "We _swear _that nothing happens will be used as blackmail. You bore."

Lips twitching in a smile Rachel couldn't stop, she found herself wavering. Half of her wanted nothing to do with this. The other half wanted again to appreciate the unadulterated fun she'd had before everything had gotten… Out of control.

_What would Finn think_? filtered through her mind before she squashed it. It didn't _matter_ what Finn would think. In fact, his comments to her, calling her needy and branding her that kind of drunk for life… It would at least be a triumph for herself to prove him wrong.

As well as she deserved some time to relax.

The beginnings of surrender fluttered in her chest. She closed her eyes, and sighed. "Nothing tobacco related."

"You know that really doesn't omit - "

"Nor _that_, Kurt!"

Santana tilted her head up, laughing in victory. "God, you're _so_ naïve," she shook her head and straightened again, looking between Rachel and Kurt. "But fine. I'll take it. How 'bout tomorrow night? 'Bout _time _we gots some fun goin' on in here!"


	165. Chapter 165

**A/N: **Anon asked for character death. Thanks!

* * *

It's when her head hits the pillow that's the worst. Because with the silence of her bedroom comes the beating of her heart, painful and intrusive in her ears. Her breath sounds too loud, the slide of blankets over her body too heavy, too coarse against her shoulder or back or chest. She gasps into the night, a hand clenched tightly over her mouth even as tears seep from her eyes. No matter what position she's in, her muscles ache and feel tight, causing her to shift only when she can't stand it anymore. She sobs, voice thick and rough, grating along the lining of her throat.

It's worst because there's no one to mirror her breathing, no one to listen to the beating of their heart instead of her own. No one's mouth or hands or arms to hold her close. No one's presence, no one's voice or warmth to drown out her anguish, to swallow her cries. There's no one to take the heaviness away.

It's the worst because the pillow on the bed in Santana and Rachel's bedroom is now the pillow on the bed in the bedroom that will never, ever, e_ver_ be Rachel's again.


	166. Chapter 166

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; one with Kurt dropping hints that he knows about Pezberry going on. I don't even know. XD Thanks!

* * *

Rachel was reaching for the rice milk when Kurt turned to her. Taking a deep sip of his coffee, he met her eyes. "Amazing how fit Santana's keeping, huh?"

Faltering, eyes immediately flashing to his as she tried to figure out if he was being suggestive or his normal gossipy self, Rachel shrugged. Pulling the milk towards her and filling the bottom of her mug, she answered breezily, "Well, she does have that dancing job."

Kurt took another sip. "You think it's all because of that?"

Rachel hid behind her mug, taking a scalding hot sip. "What else would it be?" she managed before grimacing and dropping the mug to draw cool breath into her burning mouth.

Turning away after pushing the rice milk at her, Kurt didn't answer. "I have class," he said instead, "See you later."

Wishing him good bye, Rachel watched him go.

* * *

His hands pushed deep into his jacket pockets, designer scarf artfully wrapped around his neck and mouth, Kurt let out a distracted, "Rachel's been looking quite attractive lately, huh?"

Santana slanted her eyes at him. "Why?" she asked calmly, making sure to sound uninterested, "You peevin' on her, Porcelain?"

"As _if_." Rolling his eyes, Kurt stamped his foot on the ground, drawing his shoulders in closer to his head. "I'm just saying that she won't be single for long now, knowing her.

"Tell me," he continued, looking her straight in the eye before turning back to the front of the line, pushing his bangs back from his face, "You think she's one to stay single for long?"

Fortunately, as she had been staring at him, trying to come up with something to say, they'd been waved into the club, Kurt getting swept up in Adam's attention a minute later. Downing her drink, Santana couldn't help watching him closely.

* * *

_im telling you, _Santana texted, _lady gay knows something_

_You're just overreacting, _Rachel typed back, _Be there soon._

Ugh. Santana rolled her eyes. Whatever you say. Taking a giant sip of her vodka and grapefruit juice, she flipped off the two gay boys when they invited her to dance. "Bitch, not yet," she sneered, "Gotta have at least two drinks 'n me!"

"That's not all she needs in her," Kurt snickered to Adam, and it was a good thing he swung away a second later because Santana was just about to be on his ass. _Jus get here quick_, she texted Rachel again.

_Almost there_, Rachel replied, and Santana couldn't even pretend that didn't make her slightly excited. Tossing back the rest of her drink, she drew the bartender into a conversation calculated into getting her the best of free drinks she could.

* * *

Adam glanced over his shoulder at the lone girl at the bar. "Is it working?" he asked, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Kurt smirked. Pulling the other boy farther into himself, he pressed into his shoulder, making like he was using it as a barrier to watch Santana without being caught. "Better than I could have ever expected," he grinned, closing his eyes and letting his body acclimate to the feel of Adam's.

Letting his hot breath blow over Kurt's neck, Adam smiled as he wrapped his arms around his waist. "You're just a dirty romantic, aren't you?"

Snorting, Kurt laughed. "As long as it finally gets them to admit everything," he pressed his cheek into Adam's shoulder, smiling, "I'll gladly be called anything."

Adam licked his lips. "Even my boyfriend?"

Eyes snapping open, Kurt pulled back. "Adam?"

"Well?"


	167. Chapter 167

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Santana tells Kurt she's in love with Rachel. Thanks!

* * *

It's early in the morning, the time of night where it's the muted infomercials lighting up their faces in the dark instead of something they're interested in really paying attention to, and both Kurt and Santana are comfortably drunk. Propped up on either end of the couch, legs meeting in the middle, they're taking the rare absence of their other roommates to relax and talk and bond.

"Sometimes I think Adam's too good for me," Kurt takes a sip of his drink, making the ice clink in the glass with a twist of his wrist.

"And here I was thinking we needed one of those Magic Bullets." Sipping her own drink, Santana rolls her head in Kurt's direction. "But. 'Scuze me. Say what now?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging the corners of his lips anyway. "I don't know. Everything's so..." He puffs out his cheeks, hand and glass moving in the air in somewhat of a circular motion, "I like him, but I'm not sure how much. I feel guilty because of that."

"And that has to do with him being _better _than you, how?"

"Not better than me. Too _good_ for me."

Ignoring Kurt's sharper tone, Santana raises her eyebrow at him. "Hummel," she lifts a hand, pointing at him, "What's with this sophomore year shit? Aren't you, like, gay male _gold_ by now? What about you should Mr. Big Butts be worth 'more'?"

Swallowing his sip, Kurt lets out a harsh breath of air through his teeth. "It's not as easy being gay as you seem to think so, Santana."

"_Hey_." Santana points at him again.

"_Male_ and gay, duh." Suddenly sitting up, Kurt slams his glass onto the coffee table after executing an impressive twist and lean, barely spilling a drop. Straightening, resting on his knees with his hands splayed on his thighs, he stares at her. "You lesbians have it much easier."

"Right, and dudes are _so _eager to be affectionate and nice and flirty that you don't know if they're straight or not." Santana mirrors his twist and lean, dropping her drink near his. Pulling her legs into herself, she sits up as well, eyes narrowing at him. "I'm telling you now, it's _shit_."

Kurt's eyes narrow as well. "Wait..." he starts, words thick and showing his drunkeness, "You're talking about someone we know!"

Panic flits in Santana's gaze. Her lips purse. "I have no idea what the _fuck _you think you're talking about," she says instead.

Kurt pokes her knee. "_Spill_."

Her mouth flapping open, Santana's hands curl as if they wish her drink was back in between them. She looks down. "Fuck off."

"_No_." Kurt wags his finger at her. "I've told you stuff. Now it's _your _turn."

Santana's jaw clacks shut. A shadow crosses her face, and her fingers dig into the material of her pajama bottoms. "You _swear_," she starts, glaring down, away from Kurt, eyes slowly lifting to meet Kurt's again, "That you won't tell anyone _anything _I say right now?"

Kurt makes a clumsy cross sign in front of his chest. "Swear."

Studying him, her forehead barely easing, Santana lets out a giant fed-up noise, retrieving her drink. Knocking it back, she coughs, her free hand flinging out to press strongly against the back of his hand. "I'm in love with her."

Kurt smiles broadly. "Who?"

Santana pulls her hand back. "Who do you _think_?"

"Well, Brittany's too _obvious_… Quinn? I heard you _slept_ with her, after all…"

"Not her," Santana shakes her head.

"Someone I know?" Kurt cocks his head.

Santana snorts.

"I'll take that as a yes… And since you're _lesbian_…" Kurt freezes. "_Rachel_?" he hisses, bopping up and down on his knees as he flaps his hands up and down, staring at her, a cross between a smirk and a gawping expression on his face. "_You_," he continues, hand waving in the air, pointing at her, "_Rachel_?"

Santana's hand suddenly slams across his mouth as her body impacts his, pushing him back against the couch's arm. "I _swear_," she threatens, practically hyperventilating, "You say _anything _and screw up _everything_, I'll… I'll…"

"Santana?" Kurt muffles from under her hand loudly.

Tearing dark eyes meet his. "I'll make your life _hell_. You got that? _Hell_."

Kurt nods. Waiting until Santana takes her hand away, he smiles placatingly, honestly at her. "Why her?" he asks curiously.

Santana lets out a hot puff of air. "Why _not _her?" she asks, sitting back, hiding behind her suddenly refilled glass of alcohol, eyes unfocusing as a soft smile crosses her face, voice softening, "Why _not _her?"


	168. Chapter 168

**A/N: **Prompt from pauladeroma; jawline kiss. Thanks!

* * *

The first time Rachel's lips skimmed along Santana's jaw, she hadn't been in any position to enjoy it. Spitting mad, railing against the injustices in her life at the time, she had barely allowed herself to even register the feel of Rachel's body against hers as she held her, as she helped her cope with the reality that life was a bitch and not everything was going to go her way. She had barely, in fact, even acknowledged Rachel's role in calming her down and getting her back on track. Her pride barely allowed it.

The second time Rachel's lips had skimmed along her jaw, though, had been another story altogether. They'd been at one of Kurt's parties, staunchly solid friends who were happy enough to keep close throughout the night among people they didn't know well. Eventually, with her drink in her left hand, her right hand playing along Rachel's hip as she leaned into her back, practically resting into her body, Santana had decided there was no harm in sticking so close to the other girl. And Rachel, leaning back into her, nestling her head into the crook of her neck, free hand resting on Santana's on her hip, had seemed quite happy to play along in the crowd of mainly gay males. On the surface, it had just been another facet of their growing friendship.

Below the surface, however, was another story altogether. Santana's fingers had eventually started stroking along Rachel's hip and hipbone, her nose breathing in deeply of Rachel's shampoo. Rachel had settled more firmly into her body, fingernails playing along the back of Santana's hand as she'd pushed herself further into her, molding into her like a partner in a classic relationship couple would. They'd gotten looser with each drink, with each sparkling eyed gay they'd been introduced to, with each exhalation of Santana's played along Rachel's back, and each slow sway of Rachel's hips with the background music.

They'd gotten looser, more comfortable, and when Rachel's lips had pressed into her jaw when she'd craned her head around as Santana had leaned forward, Santana had taken the opportunity to meet Rachel's eyes instead of looking away or ignoring the shiver that had raced down her spine.

She'd met Rachel's gaze, arching her eyebrows as the other girl had licked her lips. "Rache?"

Rachel had stared back at her, barely batting an eye. "I'm not going to apologize or make an excuse," she'd challenged, "In fact, I would - I'd like to do it again."

"Yeah?" Santana answered. 'Do you know what you're getting into?' had gone unspoken, clear anyway as Santana had studied her eyes, slow, initial disbelief curling her lips up, making her expression sharp and full of expectation.

Rachel had circled in her arms, stepping up to meet her, chest to chest and smiling, looking so irresistible that Santana hadn't been able to help leaning down to kiss her as soon as the last word had barely left her mouth, "Yes, Santana. I would. So, please, tell me you want this too. Please. _Tell me_ - "


	169. Chapter 169

**A/N: **Prompt from Pauladeroma, who asked for upside down kiss. Thanks!

* * *

"This early?" Santana grumbled. Keeping most of her body on the bed, she still managed to angle her head over, starting to drop off of the mattress.

"Yes this early," Rachel replied from the direction of her en suit bathroom, barely taking a break from her normal routine, "Are you going to hurt your neck like that?"

"'S fine." Finishing her mumble with a yawn, Santana pulled her pillow closer to her chin.

"Right." Smiling affectionately, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom.

Santana yawned again. "Damn right." Inhaling deeply, she resettled her shoulders, angled her head to the left, and drifted back off to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, soft fingers combing through her bangs and stroking her cheek woke her up. "Wha - ?" she managed, grimacing as the feeling of blood pooling in her head wasn't the most comfortable.

"Shh," Rachel responded, bending down, lightly kissing her upside-down and laughing when Santana pursed her lips and half-asleeply tried to kiss her back, a clumsy hand whacking into Rachel's hip before weakly curling as best as it could in the folds of her sweater, "Get back onto the bed. I know you have another hour to sleep."

"Sleep?" Santana replied, sleepily searching for Rachel's mouth again, smiling even as she half-way got Rachel's nose instead, "Mmm... Sleep. Join me."

Pecking her girlfriend's lips once more, Rachel smiled affectionately. "Not right now, but later, when I have the time to relax, I promise, okay?" Lips brushing along Santana's nose as she finally heaved her head up, back onto the mattress, she angled her head for one last proper kiss. "I love you," she murmured, "Have a good day."

Santana smiled. "Love you too," she answered, even with her eyes closed and just about asleep again, rolling over as soon as Rachel was gone to spoon her pillow, "Mmm... Love you..."


	170. Chapter 170

**A/N: **Prompt from lightbluenymphadora, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

There were three babies in the playpen, and they all looked just like Santana. Rachel stared at them. "That's really creepy," she whispered.

Smirking, her arms crossed as she looked almost proud at the three babies, Santana nodded. "I guess I'm just a badass papa."

"Yeah, if any of them were actually _yours_." Pinching Santana's waist, Rachel looked pointedly at her, one corner of her lips curling up. "Or have you been up to things you haven't been telling me about?"

"Hey!" Slapping her hand over Rachel's, smoothly turning it into taking her hand and lacing their fingers together, Santana swung the two of them around. "C'mon. Let's go wait in my trailer while they finish setting up the cameras." Nodding and smiling at the director and her assistants as they passed, Santana pulled Rachel closer into her side. "You know I haven't, baby. Like I'd ever want anyone else. You're more than enough to deal with." She pushed open the door, grinning.

Turning around as soon as she entered, Rachel wrapped her hand around Santana's arm, yanking her in after her. Barely waiting for the door to close behind them, she pushed Santana down onto the nearest couch, immediately straddling her. "It's a good thing I love you," she smiled broadly before leaning in, kissing her, "Or else I'd give you something you'd _really _have to handle."

Santana wrapped her hands around Rachel's hips. "Challenge s_o _accepted," she murmured huskily, and kissed her back.


	171. Chapter 171

**A/N: **A prompt from an anon; Pezberry- *future AU* Santana has sustained severe injuries in a battle and is the first to be put through the cyborg program that is headed by Dr. Berry. This was previously posted as a story of it's own, but I realized that I have no interest in continuing it, as well as no idea of where it could go, anyway, so decided to just delete it and post it here, instead. Thanks!

* * *

"What is her status?"

"Stable but not in good condition, sir," the young intern answered, stuttering after a second when brown eyes glared at her, "I, I mean Dr."

Dr. Berry raised her hand. "It's alright, Miss Motta. What would you suggest?"

Sugar stared at her. "Fluids and around the clock monitoring, Dr.?"

"And when she flat lines due to below standard vitals?" Allowing a smile to grace her face, Dr. Rachel Berry nodded at the young intern. "When are you going to entertain the idea of our 'special program'?"

Lowering her eyes, Sugar shrugged. "I just can't get behind it, Dr. I mean, the loss of organic control alone…"

Rachel nodded. "I understand. I do. Still, this girl, this 'Santana Lopez,', she deserves the best that science can afford her, does she not?" Moving to the window overlooking the bed Santana Lopez slumbered upon, the doctor's forehead creased. "She deserves more than what our government has forced her into."

Sugar hesitantly nodded. "I guess. I just don't like that she has no choice in the matter."

Stepping back from the window, Rachel looked over at Sugar. "Do any of us have a choice?" Shaking her head, interrupting any response, Rachel walked towards the door, "Get Miss Lopez into the first operating room you can, and let me know when she's ready." Pausing on the threshold, she sighed, "God help any of us for being ready for what we have planned for her."

Not knowing how to reply and not sure the doctor expected any response, Sugar went back to her job of monitoring the subject as soon as the door closed behind Dr. Berry. 'Please,' she allowed herself to think, eyes roaming over the form of Santana Lopez, expression tense, 'Forgive me for what's going to happen to you.'


	172. Chapter 172

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Berrittana school dance. Thanks!

* * *

The music's blaring.

Rachel has lost sight of Finn somewhere in the vicinity of Quinn, and put out by the unconscious insecurities brought on by that fact, she's camped out on the side of the dance floor, picking at the cup of punch she's sipping slowly. "_Finn_..." she hisses, frowning into the crowd and feeling like it wouldn't give her _any _positives to try to stand on her toes in her high heels, "Where are you...?"

"Yo. Hobbit."

"Rachel."

Turning her head, Rachel forces a smile as she smoothes her hand down the waist of her dress. "Hi Brittany. Santana."

Each girl nodding as they are addressed, Santana looks Rachel up and down, one of her eyebrows quirked as Brittany, next to her, smiles broadly.

"Well..." Santana smirks, "Look who's alone."

"Where's your date?" Brittany adds.

Rachel straightens even as the plastic of her cup creaks. "He's... Getting me some more punch," she smiles.

"Right, and _punch _means Q." Stepping forward, Santana moves in front of Rachel's line of sight. "You wanna dance?"

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"Yeah," Brittany adds, pressing her hand against Rachel's arm even as she's suddenly standing closer. "Don't you like this music?" she continues, over the sound of Artie singing a hit from the Eighties, "And want to dance to it?" She sways on her feet, drawing Rachel's eyes to her midsection.

"I..." Rachel blinks, glances at Santana, then smiles at Brittany. "Fine," she agrees, "Just let me..."

Scoffing, Santana snatches the almost empty cup from Rachel's hand and chucks it at the nearest what she probably classifies as 'nerd'. "Hobbit," she snarks, sliding her hand down Rachel's wrist and locking her fingers around her palm, tugging her back onto the dance floor, "Just shut up and dance with us. You know you want to."

"Yeah," Brittany breathes into her ear, breath blowing across Rachel's cheek as she moves in behind her, Santana taking her front, "Just, dance with us. At least once."

Rachel looks back and forth between them, her gaze catching on Brittany's smile and Santana's smoky eyes. "Fine," she relaxes, starting to allow herself to get into the rhythm of the music as she registers the feeling of both girls surrounding her, suddenly barely bothered with looking for Finn, "I'd be happy to. Honestly. Thank you!"

"Our pleasure," Brittany grins, Santana nodding along. "Totes," Santana adds as she rolls her hips into Rachel, arms lightly circling her shoulders as Brittany presses in closer, "Our pleasure."


	173. Chapter 173

**A/N: **Prompt from pauladeroma; Rachel was finally able to drag Santana to one of NYADA's outings, but she gets really jealous when some girls from her class start fawning over Santana. Thanks! I tried. XD

* * *

Rachel can't figure out what's bothering her. In the corner of Kurt's friend's loft, she's holding onto her Solo cup of vodka and chaser - like she was really paying attention when Santana shoved it at her - as she surveys the sight of Santana "whooping" it up with Rachel's NYADA classmates. Good. It's good, she thinks, setting her jaw as she takes a deep sip. Santana's popularity is _her _popularity, right?

Still, she reaches out to grab Adam's arm as he sweeps past. "Hi," she starts, "Having fun?"

Adam beams at her. "Totally!" he grins, slinging his arm around her shoulder as he pulls her into her side, "Here, c'mon, let me bring you to Kurt."

"Kurt?" Rachel blinks. Looking away from where Santana has two or three of her classmates hanging on her every word, she puts a smile on her face. "Kurt!"

"Riiiiight," Adam grins, "Kurt!"

Kurt, who is caught up in regaling a crowd of people Rachel vaguely recognizes from the NYADA halls, including Cassandra. "Hey! Rachel!" Her roommate smiles as he, too, slides his arm around Rachel's side, taking a moment to lace their hands together, "Everyone! This is my _amazing _roommate, Rachel, who just so happens to go to school with you!"

Amazing? Rachel melts. "No, no," she grins, pointing at Kurt's face, "_You're _amazing!"

"Hah!" Laughing, Kurt points back at her. "We both - we're _both _amazing. _And_!" he continues, twirling on his heel to point blindly across the room, waiting until he gets Santana in his cross hairs, "You _know _she's amazing too!"

"Oh?" Miguel, one of Kurt's random friends, interrupts Rachel's prepared response and silencing Cassandra's probably smart-ass response as well, "_Oh_. Who is that _stunning_ example of the female _form_?"

"That's _Santana_," Rachel growls, "My - _our_ - roommate. Who we went to high school with."

"Oh?" Miguel laughs again. "Looks to me like this _Santana_," he twirls his finger in the air, smirking, "Has no trouble with the _fairer _of sexes."

_What_? Snapping her head around, Rachel gapes as she realizes it's true. Santana, completely in her zone, is currently running her finger down one of the _bitches _in Rachel's class' dress straps. "_Santana_?"

"_Hmm_?"

Rachel can feel Miguel's eyes on her, and she doesn't like it. Still, she frowns, barely letting the man's smug expression get to her as she throws out a lame excuse, stomping across the room to Santana's side to wrap her arm around her upper arm and _force _her to turn from the _bitch_'s bubble of awareness, "Santana. A word, please?"

It takes Santana _way _too much time to disengage from the... _Skank's _presence. "Wow, _dude_," Santana protests as Rachel drags her into the hallway and in front of the bathroom, "What the hell?"

"Dude?" Rachel spits as she rounds on Santana, glancing behind her to the bathroom before pushing Santana into it, not letting up until they're behind the door with it shut behind them, "_Dude_?"

Shaking her head, Santana stares at Rachel. "What?"

"_What_?" Rachel takes a step forward.

Santana meets her. "Hmm?"

Her jaw grinding, Rachel pushes up on her toes, meeting Santana nose to nose. "You think you're cute?"

Santana's eyes flash even as her lips curl up. "Cute? Oh. _Darling_." Leaning forward, her eyes almost close as her mouth _barely _hovers over Rachel's, "You wouldn't know _cute_ unless it _bit_ you in the ass!"

Glancing down at Santana's lips, Rachel swallows. Her fists dig into her hips. "Cute? Biting me in the ass?" She moves forward even closer, fingers catching at Santana's shirt, staring up at her, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Santana looks at the door, then back at Rachel, and suddenly, she's laughing. "Oh," she finally sobers enough to say, cupping Rachel's hips as she pulls her close enough to kiss, "I see."

Rachel's heart pounds, but honestly, she can't turn away from Santana's eyes. "Yeah?" she licks her lips, eyes fluttering shut, barely allowing a smile.

"Yeah," Santana grins, pushing her into the door and pushing against her, thigh between her legs as she dips down, lips hot as she kisses her thoroughly, strongly, "_'Bout_ _fucking time _you acknowledged this was happening."


	174. Chapter 174

**A/N: **For flightlessbird-emu. Contains g!p, so read at your own discretion.

* * *

Humming to herself, Rachel Berry watched herself intently in the mirror as she brushed her hair. _100, 101, 102_... Not bothering to look up as the bathroom door opened, she still caught the figure of Santana Lopez slipping in. Barely pausing her regimen, Rachel still watched as Santana practically _ran _into the nearest stall. "Hmm...?" she added to the end of her current hum.

_105, 106,107_... Counting up until _125_, Santana hadn't reappeared, and neither had she made any other noise except for what sounded like a heavy inhale and exhale, as well as a slight whine. Normally feeling too awkward to do anything except do her business and leave as quickly as possible, Rachel paused. "...Santana?" she cleared her throat.

What sounded like a gasp and quick scrabbling of _something _answered her. "_Hobbit_?" Santana demanded, her voice husky, almost scratchy.

She hadn't seen her? Rachel blinked, then turned on her toe, her hairbrush practically forgotten in her grip. She stared at the stall door she knew Santana had disappeared behind. "Yes, this is Rachel."

"_Hobbit_." This time, it was more resignation than panic. "What are - go away."

Rachel felt a laugh bubble up in her chest. "I was here first," she answered practically smugly, turning back to the mirror. _126, 127_... She counted up until _132 _when the bathroom stall door suddenly slammed open, making her jump. Landing first on the tip of her toes, she'd barely centered herself before almost-taloned fingers were grasping her hips, tugging her around in such a violent manner that her hairbrush flew from her unprepared hand to clatter into the sink. "_What_ - ?" Rachel gasped, gasping again as she suddenly found herself splayed against Santana's chest. "Santana, I _must_ - "

But Santana's hand slapped over her mouth. "You feel this?" the girl hissed, dark eyes glaring into her as something - something _hard_!? - pressed into Rachel's abdomen and lower.

Breathing in quickly through her nose, Rachel stared at her. She felt her lower lip tremble against Santana's palm. "What?" she muffled as best as she could. Her eyes darted down, as if she could see past all of the blockages in her way before meeting Santana's gaze again. "Santana?"

The girl let out a harsh breath through her nose. Her upper lip curled up, showing her teeth. "Tell me," she hissed, almost subconsciously pushing forward to trap Rachel harder against the lip of the sink, making the bulge at her crotch even more noticeable, "You feel this?"

Rachel swallowed. "_Yes_," she nodded violently, fingers digging sightlessly into the area of Santana's hips as her eyes stared into hers, drawing in a deep breath as soon as Santana freed her hand from her mouth, "But - but... _So_?"


	175. Chapter 175

**A/N: **So... An anon asked me to do a Pezberry sexual headcanon meme, and of course it got away from me. By the end, it turned into some kind of fic, so forgive me my paragraph choices for the last answer, and the shift in writing style, and everything else. I know it's all over the place. XD Also, this contains substantial enough Dantanchel and Berrittana to note it as well. Thanks!

**What was their first kiss like?**

It was abrupt and harsh, full of teeth that glanced off of each other because Rachel hadn't been prepared for the swoop in, even if Santana's hands had been clenched on her hips, her breath visible in the chill air. She'd heard Santana's muffled curse, felt her take the final step forward to be flush against her body, but even so, Rachel hadn't been expecting Santana to follow through; plenty of times they'd been at this point, enflamed and passionate, but an equally plenty of times it had gone nowhere. So when Santana's lips had slammed into hers, it had taken Rachel more time than she ever liked to admit to start kissing Santana back. Hungry, wet, and full of tongue as soon as Rachel opened her mouth, neither had come up for air for what seemed like hours later.

**Where were they the first time they had sex?**

Santana likes to joke that it was Kurt's bed, but reality is that even though they got close that one night, it wasn't until they were at Santana's house back in Lima during Rachel's second year at NYADA that they finally went the whole way. They'd been casually dating for months, avoiding anything more than being what Rachel figured was 'mack buddies' and unwilling to put a name to what they were doing. But somehow, that weekend, with _that_ look in Santana's eyes and _that _feeling in Rachel's stomach, there they were, finally taking that last step. It was in equal parts slow and fast, full of eye contact and anything but. Partially comfortable, partially pained by hammering hearts, Rachel and Santana had explored each other, finally getting off hard and fast as their bodies arched and surged against each other, only slowing down as defensive adrenaline trickled away. Hot and sweaty, breath puffing as she settled into Santana's arms, only for her to roll away from her, presenting her her back, Rachel hadn't fallen asleep until Santana, in deep sleep, had rolled back over, burying her face into Rachel's chest.

**Who's louder?**

After they start to have regular sex, it's definitely Rachel. Santana loves to push Rachel past what she thinks she can do, finding great pleasure in making new sounds come out as she touches her. It's almost like she had made it a goal of hers to drive Rachel crazier each time they have sex, and though Rachel honestly finds it exciting and overly satisfying most of the time, she can't deny that sometimes Santana makes her scream her throat raw, which isn't the most comfortable. But it's not like Rachel throws in the towel without trying. Santana makes the most intriguing moans and sighs and noises whenever Rachel gets her hands on her, and aside from the beginning when Rachel doubted herself, she knows Santana likes what she does (not to mention Santana finally snapped at her that if she really _hadn't _been satisfactory, there was no point in waiting to ask her as Santana would have no shame in telling her, so _fucking stop asking_).

**Who wakes up first?**

Rachel does. Though Santana has to get up early for classes and her job on alternating days, Rachel's still always up before she is. When they were still sleeping apart, it wasn't something Santana cared or worried about. She'd learned long ago to tune out the sound of Rachel's elliptical, and since she and Kurt had threatened Rachel into using headphones instead of blasting her music all through the loft, it was hardly an issue any more. Hell, she loved having her morning to herself. But after her and Rachel's relationship slowly morphed into something real, Santana found herself giving in, more often than not rolling out of bed ten or fifteen minutes later on her free days to join in. She just loved seeing Rachel all hot and sweaty and flushed, okay? Besides, the extra hot sex that earned her was totally worth it (the amount of times they'd run the hot water out in the shower alone made her smirk proudly).

**Who performs or receives oral more?**

This is actually pretty well split between the two. Though it took longer for Rachel to feel comfortable in taking pleasure in doing this for Santana (as she'd never really found the idea of giving or receiving oral as something she'd ever be particularly interested in), once she'd done the requisite research and convinced herself she was allowed to like it as much as she did, she'd practically blindsided Santana the moment she'd gotten back from work, pushing her onto her bed and eating her out until Kurt yelled at them the superintendent had called, threatening to call the police. Repaying her back the next day, Santana claims that the resulting $100 public disturbance fee was definitely worth it, and to Rachel's horror, she'd actually framed it to prove just how much of lesbian stud she was (when anyone asks, Rachel lies and says it's for the party they'd thrown after Rachel got her first Broadway role). As for Santana, going down on a girl has always been one of her most favorite things to do, loving everything about it. Besides, it gets the cutest noises and reactions from Rachel, and she's _so _responsive it's _beyond _hot.

**Who tries new things more often?**

It was Rachel who first wanted to try everything and anything, but only after their relationship became official. Before that, she didn't feel secure enough in herself or in... Whatever it was she and Santana were, and she didn't want to trust Santana with too much if it wasn't going to _mean _anything. But once they officially got together, it hadn't taken long before both Santana and Rachel's 'special drawers' were put to use, and a whole weekend was spent at a local porn expo where Rachel's confident interest almost put Santana to shame. They still have adventurous days, and they both have their own lists of ideas (though Rachel's is the only one indexed by kink and equipment), but it's not like Rachel feels like she has to keep up with Santana's (as Rachel had perceived) libido anymore (especially since the night Santana had admitted that experimenting was fun and she enjoyed trying new things with Rachel better than it had been with anyone else, but she still liked when it was just them [and maybe one or two of their favorite toys] the best).

**If they had to include a third person, who would it be?**

They've actually already done this, twice. There was the time Brittany had come to visit while Rachel and Santana still weren't _something_. Though Santana could have just slept with Brittany herself (which she totally had been planning to originally), she hadn't liked the odd heavy feeling of guilt that had curled up in her stomach at Rachel's practiced disaffected smile when she'd talked to them earlier, so when Brittany had suggested asking Rachel to join in, Santana agreed. Give Rachel the chance to decline so it wouldn't be like had just ignored her, right? Only, with wide eyes and numerous blinks, her knuckles turning white as she wrung her hands together, Rachel had taken a deep breath, smiled shyly, and agreed.

It had actually gone pretty spectacularly. Starting off a little slowly, Rachel still a little hesitant to get in between Brittany and Santana, by the time Brittany had gotten her _amazing _mouth and hands on her, and Santana worked through the stupor at seeing Brittany and Rachel twined together on the couch, barely remembering to move the discarded wine glasses safely out of the way, it was definitely off.

But for some reason, after taking the blonde to the airport the next morning, it was suddenly like Rachel couldn't look at Santana. She seemed guilty and angry and hurt all at the same time; like she'd stepped into something she hadn't meant to, and it had only proven something to her. Finally cornering Rachel, demanding that she explain why the hell she had agreed if she was so _fucking _ashamed, Rachel had burst into tears and snapped that she wasn't _ashamed_. She only feared that, having been with Brittany again, having been with Brittany and Rachel _together_, Santana had just been reintroduced to _another_ reason why she was never going to see Rachel as _anything_ but someone she slept with.

Later that night, after Rachel had stormed out and come back, and Santana had spent a couple of hours on the roof, smoking and staring at the sun turn into the moon, Santana had stepped into Rachel's section, sat down next to her, and kissed her. "It wasn't me comparing you to Brittany," she'd whispered, breathing deeply and slowly picking up Rachel's hand, swallowing as she softly met Rachel's eyes, "It was me saying good bye to her, and everything she represents, in the only way I know how, while sliding you into your own, Rachel-shaped place."

It had still taken some time, but that had been the turning point in their relationship actually becoming a _relationship_, so much so that Rachel ended up sending Brittany a Thank You card.

The second time was a couple of years later, it happening without a lot of preparation or planning. Rachel and Santana had become good friends with Dani, another waitress at their work, and being the natural flirts they all were, it wasn't a surprise that they spent most of their time hanging out together teasing each other suggestively. Rachel and Santana had long ago had a talk about jealousy and their relationship and being secure about how they felt for each other. The actual idea was put forward by Rachel one evening while she and Santana were relaxing on the couch, more of an idle musing than anything. Surprised, Santana finally shrugged, agreeing that if the opportunity ever came up, and if they were all feeling it, she'd be into it too. A couple more days of casual discussion just to make sure both were serious, the matter was comfortably put to bed. Half a year later, though, it was Dani, Rachel, and Santana in the loft, drinking and laughing and singing together. Rachel and Santana were listening to Dani complain about the girls in her life, teasing her until she'd finally fallen back onto the couch, pouting, "Why can't I just find someone like _you_ guys?"

"Well..." Rachel had straightened, exchanging a searching glance with Santana before smiling and biting her lip and climbing forward to look down at Dani, "If you agree that this'll be probably the only time this happens, and it's not like we're inviting you to join our relationship, but... If you want to have intercourse with us, we're offering."

Rolling her eyes, Santana moved over, grabbing Dani's hand to help her sit up as Rachel sat back to give her the space to do so, "What Rachel means is, we're totally into having fun with you if you want to."

"Doesn't have to be tonight," Rachel hastened to add, "And if you want, we'll never bring this up again."

Nodding, Santana let go of Dani's hand as the doorbell rang, heading to pay and retrieve the delivery they'd ordered, which gave time for Dani to grab her drink, taking a big sip before exhaling deeply and shaking her head. "Wow. Really? I mean, don't get me wrong, I find the two of you _spectacularly _hot, but..." Her eyes flickered towards Rachel, then at Santana, "I really wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes?"

And so it went from there, Rachel reassuring her, Santana joining in as soon as she'd set out the food. Passing out plates and utensils, she'd taken the empty seat next to Dani, and as the atmosphere relaxed again, all three getting back to their normal rapport, they slowly started getting closer. By the time they'd gotten up to put their dishes in the sink and refresh their drinks, it was obvious where everything was going. It was fun, hot, and as dawn rose, something all three wouldn't regret, but knew wouldn't happen again.

After taking Dani home, Rachel burrowed into Santana's arm. "That was fun..." she sighed, smiling, "But I don't think we need to do it again anytime soon."

"Yeah..." Santana wrapped her arm around her, squeezing her tightly and kissing the top of her head, smiling as they walked to the subway, "I like us. But _damn_." She slid her eyes towards Rachel, smirking teasingly, "Was she hot!"

Lightly slapping Santana's side, Rachel laughed, and tugged her into a kiss. "I love you," she murmured.

Grinning, Santana kissed her back, "I love you too."


	176. Chapter 176

**A/N: **An anon asked for Pezberry - watching the clouds. Thanks!

* * *

"Boobs."

"You've said that about every cloud we've looked at, be them so shaped or not."

"Rache. You can see the nipples."

"No we most certainly cannot!"

"Sure you can. Look. Before they break up and go to mammary heaven. Here, look."

"No, no, I don't need you - Santana, I can look for myself!"

"Not if you can't see it. And I _know_ you like my hands on you, so isn't it a win-win situation? Boobs in the sky to look at and your hot girlfriend wantin' to get close to you?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Has anyone told you you can be incredibly boring?"

"Santana."

"Good thing you're cute. So. C'mon. See the nipples?"

"No. I didn't. Now, _please_, be serious. For me. …That one. What does that one look like?"

"Your boobs."

"_Santana._"


	177. Chapter 177

**A/N: **Prompt from hucklebarn; bit of a depressing prompt in the vein of Santana feeling extra guilty/sad after Finn's passing because she has been falling for Rachel. Now he's gone - just like she secretly wished for - but she never wanted it to be like this... Thanks!

* * *

Santana didn't want Rachel to touch her.

She could hold and hug the girl when she broke down, but she didn't feel like she deserved it when the girl tried to do the same back. Because this? Santana had wanted him _gone_. She had! But... But even if she wanted Finn _gone_, she had never wanted it to be because _of_...

Santana closed her eyes, turning her head away, into the wind. Cupping her hands around her cigarette, she took a deep drag. Even if Rachel hated her smoking, it wasn't going to stop her. Not tonight.

Keeping the smoke in her lungs, she exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as it whipped back towards her face, no matter her finger shield. Her lips crooked. Rachel hated her smoking, she thought again as she took another drag, but even so, better a slow death than what her mind was doing to her.

Tears stung again. Gritting her teeth, bowing her head, Santana breathed in deeply through her nose. Rachel was finally, shallowly, free. But at what cost...?

A tear slipped down, then another. Even with their antagonistic past, Santana hadn't wanted _this_!

Couldn't Santana have won over Rachel with_out_ this erasure of her possible future? Couldn't Santana have done so _much_...! Started so _much_...! Given Rachel what she needed so _much _without the deletion of her _other _forever?

She was crying again. She was crying again, and someone's arms were suddenly wrapped around her. "You know I hate you smoking," a low voice whispered in her ear, a small, shaking with cold body pressing into her back.

Santana laughed harshly. _Let go_, she thought. _Let go. I don't deserve this_! But instead, she turned her head, pushing it against Rachel's shoulder. "Tough," she pushed out, stubbing her cigarette into the fire escape anyway, ignoring how her nerves lit up and sparked at the feel of Rachel against her, "He... He wouldn't begrudge me this."

She didn't have to say who she meant, and, when Rachel's forehead pressed into her back, her arms slipping down to hold her waist, Santana knew Rachel knew too.

Santana didn't want Rachel to touch her.

Santana didn't want Rachel to touch her, but if _Rachel_ needed to touch _her_, she swallowed, hating herself, cupping her hands over Rachel's and slowly, gingerly leaning back into her, who was _she_ to say no? It wasn't like her other option – _her better option_ – was there anymore.


	178. Chapter 178

**A/N: **Prompt from anon; Puckleberrypez - Rachel gets hit on by both men and women at a club, some maybe slightly more aggressive than others, and Santana and Noah are not okay with it. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel was having fun. Bopping up and down in time with the music, she ignored how sedentary her boyfriend and girlfriend were being. "This is great!" she stated loudly, over the music.

Santana and Puck exchanged glances. "_So _great," Puck responded, lifting his beer to his lips. Having already taken his spot as lead lookout within the club, he barely took notice when Santana shifted closer to Rachel.

"Hey, babe," Santana pressed her hand into Rachel's waist, snaking around to cup her hip, "You having fun?"

"Like you don't know I am!" Rachel laughed, "This music's amazing!"

Santana shook her head. "Glad you think so," she dropped into Rachel's ear, "You want another drink?"

Her lips brushing along Santana's cheek in her quest for her ear, Rachel giggled. "I _do _like things that contain orange juice!" she crowed.

Laughing, Santana smirked at her. "I'll be right back."

Rachel smiled, catching her hand. "Don't be too long?"

"Never." Leaning forward, Santana kissed her, then curled her hands around her shoulders, pushing her towards Puck. "Keep our boy company, kay?"

"Okay," Rachel responded, even if Santana had already slipped away. Turning to Puck, automatically nuzzling into his neck, a hand coming up to run through his mohawk, Rachel kissed the bottom of his jaw. "You having fun?" she whispered.

Looking down at her, Puck smiled. Kissing her, tongue automatically sliding into her mouth, he tasted like beer, and Rachel pulled away, making a face at him. "Puck!"

"What?" he laughed, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing her again.

Kissing him back before pushing against his chest to move him away, Rachel smiled up at him. "What beer are you drinking?"

"Uh… Some kind of dark IPA. Why?"

"You _know _that's not what I like to drink!"

Puck scoffed. "Wow," he drawled, letting her go, "Such a J.A.P.!"

"And you know it!" Swaying from side to side, still listening to the music, Rachel tapped her finger against his nose. "Dance with me?"

"Weren't we already doing that?" Raising his eyebrows, Puck watched as she turned to survey the club before twisting to see where Santana was. Pushing back into him, her lower back snug against his pelvis, she swung from side to side, only urged on when his hands landed on either of her hips.

Pulling away as the music swelled, raising her arms to above her head, already feeling the wine cooler she'd chugged as soon as they'd gotten there, Rachel laughed when Santana suddenly appeared in front of her. "Here," Santana cooed, placing the two drinks she'd gotten onto the table before circling Rachel's waist, pulling her aside to slide in behind her, squishing herself between her and Puck, "I wants in on this."

Puck's arms curled around her sides, Rachel's joining a second later, perched at her hips. "Mmm… Yeah, I like this," Puck grinned as Rachel pushed back into her, adding, "I like this too."

Santana's lips slid across the back of Rachel's neck. "Good," she breathed, straightening and placing a loud kiss to Puck's cheek, leaning into his embrace, "Then you won't…" Her fingers splayed on Rachel's stomach, pressing her close into her before slipping back out to grab her drink, "Care that that prick's been _staring _at you."

"What?" Immediately alert, scanning the club from side to side, Rachel laughed as soon as she caught sight of who Santana was meaning. Sure, the guy was attractive, but did he match either Santana or Puck's allure or elicit any of the same kind of feeling inside of her? Of course not! Sending him a wink, she laughed when Santana, having turned around, growled. "Easy baby," she breathed, wrapping her hands around her girlfriend's cheeks to pull her into a proper kiss, "You know he could _never _compare.

"And you," she added, reaching behind her to grab Puck's arm, tugging him forward and around, already knowing how he would be reacting as well, catching their conversation, "You should know he wouldn't compare with _you_." Pushing up on her toes, kissing Puck in turn, she only smiled when his body relaxed into hers. "Mmm…" she hummed, almost laughing but keeping it back, "Like _anyone_ could compare with you two!"

Less than an hour later, it was a woman who was making googly eyes at her. Hooking her fingers in Santana's belt, dirty dancing with her just enough to make her point, Rachel threw back her drink, smiling widely as soon as the woman looked away. As nice as it was to get the attention of strangers, she dug her fingers into Santana's arm, Puck's arm a second later, making sure both were concentrated on her, there was something... _Nicer _about getting fought over, even as lopsided and _pointless_ it already was.

However, when a guy cornered her on her way out from the bathroom, not taking no for an answer and trying to intimidate her with his body, Rachel was happy to have the intimidation factor of her girlfriend swoop in, wrapping her arm around her waist, bristling and spouting insults as she pulled Rachel away. And when another woman tried to get too friendly at the bar when Rachel was trying to get drinks for all three of them, Puck turning up and practically humping her on the spot, cradling her against his body… Rachel would never deny it made her happy and turned her on to no end.

Because Puck and Santana were hers just as much as Rachel, she danced in between them again, swerving around to put Santana in the middle, then Puck, each laughing and grinning and kissing each in turn, over and over throughout the night, was theirs.


	179. Chapter 179

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; established Pezberry with Santana confronting the unnamed Cheerio (from Nationals), who I chose to continue calling Gabrielle. I tried. Thanks!

* * *

Having been preoccupied with enjoying the confetti and helping the guys hoist their giant-ass trophy into the air, Santana still managed to catch the more than platonic hug junior!Cheerio Gabrielle gave her girlfriend. With teeth gleaming and body jumping up and down, rubbing along Rachel's side and front, it was obvious, even in the glance Santana managed to get before Mike stepped in front of her, the girl was enjoying it too much. Narrowing her eyes and offering some sort of half-assed excuse, pushing her corner of the trophy into Finn's hands, Santana slid up behind her girlfriend. Capturing her around the waist to spin her into her (and away from Gabrielle), and, with barely a thought into how she would have felt about doing this a year ago, she dipped Rachel in the middle of the hall. The kiss was beautiful and lovely, Rachel latching her arms around her neck to keep herself anchored, and Santana forgot all about the girl who had prompted the display in the first place.

Until two days later, when Santana found herself alone with Gabrielle in the bathroom nearest her science class. Continuing to reapply her lip gloss, barely allowing any sign of her perturbation to cross her face, she waited until the younger girl had stepped up beside her, "Navarro."

Gabrielle looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "Santana."

Recapping her lip gloss, Santana turned on her heel, resting her hip against the side of the sink. "Tell me, Navarro," she drew out Gabrielle's last name, tilting her head, "Are you _trying _to get yourself a smack down? 'Cuz the way I sees it, the longer you continue going after my girl, the sooner you's gonna get your ass _beat_.

"Because, you know what? I've been watching you. And what I've _seen_…" Santana stepped forward, poking Gabrielle roughly in the middle of her sternum, over the WMHS on her cheerleader top, "You have _no idea _how close you are to makin' me go all Lima Heights Adjacent on you." And she had been watching. Rachel might be oblivious, but Santana sure as _fuck _wasn't.

Gabrielle swallowed, but to her credit, she didn't try to deny what Santana was saying. Instead, she stood up straight, so composed Sue would have been proud. She raised her chin. "I'm just giving her an option. If she's happy with you, then I'm not a threat."

Throwing back her head, Santana laughed. "Are you _serious_?" she smirked sharply as soon as she met the younger girl's eyes again, "You? You're as much of a threat _now_ as when your mother abandoned you at the fire station." Laughing again, she fanned her fingers out, shoving her palm into Gabrielle's chest, pushing her back into the sink. "Watch yourself," she sneered, using the back of her hand to lightly slap Gabrielle's cheek, "And remember I practically have Sue in my back pocket. So her an' me? Can make your life _hell_."

Sauntering to the door of the bathroom, she paused. "Just be glad," she slowly turned her head, glaring at Gabrielle over her shoulder, "I promised Rachel I wouldn't get expelled or suspended before school ended. _But_." She made sure Gabrielle could see the heat in her eyes, "_Don't think that means I'm not dangerous_."


	180. Chapter 180

**A/N: **Prompt from ocfanatic2013; Established Pezberry. Santana surprises Rachel in New York when she's supposed to be in Kentucky. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel is having an okay day. Not wonderful, not horrible. More like average. She's not too stressed out with school or practicing for the Spring Showcase, and she doesn't feel the need to worry about rent or the lease to their loft just yet. In fact, aside from not hearing from Santana yet that day, everything's pretty normal. Kurt's off with Adam somewhere, which means she gets the apartment to herself, which means she can sing along with the TV or her music as passionately as she wants. That almost tipping her mood into more of the perfect column, she still can't help but keep her phone within easy reach.

It's not like she's insecure, and it's not like she and Santana have to keep in contact _constantly_. It's just that she finally has extra time for her girlfriend, something that hasn't been easy to come by lately, and it's just not happening.

Glancing at her phone again, smiling slightly to keep a frown off her face, Rachel turns up the volume on the TV. If she has the space to herself, why not take advantage of it? It isn't loud enough to hurt her ears or stop herself from hearing herself singing along, so it's perfect, and she settles in. Santana will contact her when she has the chance.

An hour later, well into the movie, Rachel looks up when three strong knocks sound against the front door. Figuring it has to be Kurt, as he has a habit of forgetting his keys, Rachel doesn't bother to hit pause on the DVD. Instead, standing up, skirting around the couch after dropping her blanket to pool on the cushions, she almost forgets to look through the peephole just to make sure.

But she does, and because she does, her fingers scramble to open the door, her body tensing and pushing to get it open that much faster. "Santana…?" she gasps, cheeks almost hurting from the shocked smile that instantly erupts, laughing as her girlfriend's self-satisfied smirk pours heat into her body, "_Santana_?"

Instead of answering verbally, Santana sets down her laptop bag, steps forward to wrap her arms around Rachel's shoulders, and pulls her into her. "Rachel," she whispers, still smirking as her breath plays along Rachel's lips, dipping in close to meet the smaller girl's body reaching for hers, "I'm not going to ask you if this is the best surprise ever."

"I know," Rachel happily agrees, cutting her off and practically yanking Santana's head down to kiss her, "Because I already know you know it is."


	181. Chapter 181

**A/N:** Prompt from an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Every once in a while, I write randomly. Thanks!

* * *

"I just love so much, so I can't do it."

"Did you miss a word or two in there?" Rachel asked, barely paying attention, like she had for the past however many months.

Santana clenched her jaw. "No," she slowly stated, waiting until Rachel finally gave in and met her gaze, still knowing her earnestness wouldn't be acknowledged, "_Rache_. Please. I meant what I said. How it sounded. That's what I meant."

"Hmm." Already disappearing back into the cloud surrounding her and the musical score that had been causing it more often than not, the girl barely reacted when Santana stepped into her space. She tilted her head distractedly."Yes?"

Santana closed her hand around her wrist. "Rachel." Lowering her voice, making it deeper and _forcing_ the girl to look at her again, she curled her lips up into a sickly smile. "Don't you love me?"

"You know I do." Shrugging off Santana's hold, Rachel pulled back, meeting Santana's eyes again, barely managing a, "Don't you?" before she was already concentrating back on what she'd been concentrating on before.

Santana let out a deep breath of air. Her shoulders, back, bowed. "I just love so much…" she repeated, already knowing Rachel wasn't listening to her again, "That I can't…" Her fingers ghosted along Rachel's cheek, pulling back ages before Rachel bothered to look up again, her eyes even duller then had been before, "I really can't let you go."


	182. Chapter 182

**A/N: **So I got this prompt a while ago, but I couldn't help combining it with what I've heard about the latest episode (The End of Twerking); Pauladeroma prompted, Santana teaches Rachel how to twerk. Heh. Thanks!

* * *

"You know," Santana started, a hand in the air and her lips curling in disgust, shoulders shaking, "I _was _going to teach you how to twerk." She glanced at Rachel. "No lie. But now... _Now_," she gagged, almost spitting up her lunch from before, phone heavy in her hand from where she'd been watching the latest video sent from McKinley, "I think I needs to reclaim my gag reflex." Her visage rippled, and she snapped forward, as if she was holding back throwing up, "_Oh god_."

Glaring at her, Rachel plucked her phone from her hand, "You're overreacting," she offered blithely, standing up straight and smoothing her hair back from her eyes before starting the video over again, "_Really_, Santana."

"Oh yeah?" Santana staggered over to her, being dramatic, sure, but pretty much meaning it. Sliding her hands around Rachel's shoulders, she leaned into her. She couldn't help but take a deep sniff of the girl's shampoo.

"Yeah," Rachel replied, hissing at her to be quiet so she could concentrate on the video. She forced herself to ignore how close Santana was.

Settling in, arms now wrapped around Rachel's shoulders, her nose pressed into her neck, Santana couldn't help but snigger when the younger girl froze, audible disgust leaving her mouth. "See?" she drawled as superficially as she could, still needing some emotional distance to stop herself from vomiting, as sick as she was from before, "Turn it _off_ before it - and I'm completely meaning Mr. Schue, here, don't get me wrong - rots your brain."

But Rachel couldn't look away. Her pulse throbbing in her neck, it wasn't until Santana batted her phone from her hand, clattering and dropping down onto the apartment floor, that she was able to look up. "Wh-what? _Why_?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, eyes dark as she turned her head, searching Santana's gaze, "I mean, he was never the perfect teacher, but..." Her mouth opened again, but no sound came out.

Santana curled her free hand around the one Rachel had been using to hold the phone. "He's gone insane," she stated purposefully, nodding at her, turning the girl in her arms so she faced her again, "And I will _not_..." She glared at the phone, "No matter how much you may _deserve _it, make you stoop so low.

"You do, after all," she rolled her eyes, nodding at Rachel before disengaging from her, only the barest hint of a smile, of _respect_, on her lips as her fingers slipped from her arms, "Have _some _sort of taste." Grimacing as she turned away, throwing her hands up in the air but hiding a smile as she stalked to the CD player in the corner of the apartment, Santana slowly, reluctantly, as the music started, spinning around and raising an eyebrow as she faced Rachel once again, added, "Somehow."


	183. Chapter 183

**A/N: **An anon prompted Marley/Santana/Rachel; wearing each other's clothes. Thanks!

* * *

It's not like Marley's wardrobe is too much different than Rachel's. Santana makes fun of her for it, but thankfully, neither she nor Rachel take too much offense.

Still, the day Marley showed up at McKinley wearing one of Santana's dresses, she hadn't heard the last of it. "_Stop_," she'd protested, doing her best to ignore Kitty and Unique's comments, basically biding her time until she could go home and Skype her girlfriends, "It was an accident, okay?"

"_Accident_," Santana snorted later that day, too busy leering and giving Marley bedroom eyes to truly listen to her, "More like showing your true hotness, _damn_, honey!"

Marley pinked. "I miss you too, Santana."

"Just as much as I miss you both," Rachel sighed, smiling at her, then moving her eyes to the small square Santana took up on her screen, "So when am _I _going to get my hands on one of your dresses?"

Santana laughed. "Just as soon as you admit my style's hot as shit and you's want in on it." Plush lips smirking, she reached forward, fingers brushing against the webcam. "Have I told you guys how hot it is when you emulate me?"

"No, but you don't really have to." Rachel shook her head. She grinned. "You're going to continue lying that you don't have one of my sweaters hidden in your dorm room, aren't you? And _you_, Marley," Rachel looked at her again, "You too, hmm?"

"Hey, I _like _your reindeer sweater!" Laughing, beaming, Marley shook her head, "Not going to give it up!"

"_Good_," Santana cut in, "Make it yours, baby! Keep it away from Rache!"

Shaking her head again, Rachel smirked. "You're only saying that because you have my Scottish Terrier sweater."

Santana hissed. She clucked her tongue, sniffing, "I plead the fifth."

Enjoying the faux-argument going on in front of her, Marley still butted in when both of her girlfriends slowed down, "Hey, what do you two have of mine?" She smiled, biting her lower lip, "I mean, you _have _articles of my clothing, right?"

Rachel and Santana looked at her, Rachel's turn to have pink growing on her cheeks. "I, uhm," she cleared her throat, looking down before meeting Marley's eyes again, "I have one of your sweatshirts. I even wore it yesterday."

"And _I_," Santana drawled, smiling beatifically, cheeks dimpling, "Stole one of your skirts."

"You _did_?" Marley laughed, too happy to even pretend to be upset, "Oh, _Santana_..."

"Yeah, yeah." Waving her hand in the air, Santana grinned. "A week until we see each other, right?"

Rachel smiled, eyes glittering. "A week."

Sitting back in her chair, Marley nodded, smiling shyly as she idly adjusted the hem of Santana's dress along her thighs. "A week," she agreed, "Though too long, hmm, that is."


	184. Chapter 184

**A/N: **Prompt from nasuadas, who asked for me to continue a series of Pezberry g!p pieces (100 word drabbles; which I've included here, as I cannot remember what numbers they were, heh). XD Thanks!

* * *

Rachel didn't mean to walk in on her. She just hadn't… Thought to knock.

Santana's cheeks were dark, her eyes burning holes through Rachel's face. But Rachel only knew that because she could f_eel _her glare. She couldn't _see_ it because her eyes were somewhere far more south. Far, far more south.

Rachel blinked, her mouth opening, hastily looking away for a second before flitting back. Her heart pounded, warmth suffusing her own cheeks and neck.

"Berry." Santana's voice was low, gravel, full of lividness and slow, building fury. "Get the _fuck_ out of my room."

"Sa-Santana… I…"

"**_Get _**_**out**_!"

* * *

The door slamming behind her, Rachel stared at the floor. What? she mouthed, fingers digging into the wood behind her, was that…? Really? Santana _was_…?

Countless minutes later, after Rachel had already stumbled forward and busied herself with folding and readying her laundry, purposefully ignoring what she'd seen, her eyes averted from the door and what it hid, Santana emerged.

"RuPaul," the girl hissed, stepping forward, "Give me _one _good reason why I shouldn't _kill_ you, here and now."

Swallowing, Rachel stopped, meeting Santana's gaze. "Santana," she beseeched, hand raising into the air pointlessly, curling on itself, "I'm _so_ sorry."

* * *

"You're sorry." Santana scoffed. It was violent sounding and glib, and Rachel's heart fluttered.

She slammed her mouth shut. "I am," she managed, through her teeth, barely managing to meet Santana's eyes. What else could she say? "I am as much as I could be. I should've knocked."

"You think?" Her hand slapping against her thigh, loud and sharp in the silence, Santana's expression barely changed.

Her gaze having been drawn downwards with the motion, Rachel jerked her attention away.

"_Dammit,_ Berry," Santana hissed, taking another step forward, "Don't you _dare - don't you dare _- !"

"_What do you want me to do_?" Cutting Santana off, Rachel slashed her head back and forth, "_Forget_ what I saw? I _can't_! I wish I could. I _do_. But I _can't_!

"But if you expect me - " she paused, choking on her dry mouth, her dry tongue, "I'm not going to _do _anything with that knowledge, okay? I won't." Meeting Santana's eyes head on again, she raised her hands in the air, fingers slightly curling into her palm, "_Please _believe I won't."

Santana's throat worked. Her tongue darting out, wetting her lips, her expression aimed at Rachel still cried wounded animal.

Rachel tried again. "I won't."

Liquid swam in Santana's gaze, and the girl swallowed, her eyes slamming shut. "Tell me something," she finally husked, drawing closer again, staring into Rachel, "_Tell me_. Tell me something I can use in place of what you know."

When Rachel didn't answer, Santana's tone became brusque, her expression tightening, shuttering down. "_Fuck you_," she spat, snapping back again, "_Fuck you_, Rachel Berry - "

"_I want you_," Rachel suddenly blurted, her hands snapping up, slapping over her mouth. Tears welling in her eyes, she took a trembling step back, shaking her head back and forth.

Santana's eyebrows dropped, slamming above her eyes. "_If you're lying_..."

But Rachel laughed, quick and cut-off, almost burbling a second later as she denied Santana's statement, "No. _No_! Before... _Now_... Nothing's changed okay? You're... You're beautiful, Santana, and desirous. _I_..." Suddenly, practically crying again, Rachel clasped her palms tightly over her eyes, "I'd... I'd hoped to tell you before, but now..." Her throat strangled shut, her voice sounding so hopeless in her ears, "Now you won't believe me, will you?"


	185. Chapter 185

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

Somehow, Rachel thought as her cup of tea splattered on the ground, this wasn't her fault. Barely getting the chance to watch the dark liquid start spreading along the sidewalk, Rachel's attention was soon, violently, diverted to the body the two arms that wrapped around her waist and chest to pull her back from the developing fray belonged to. "Puck!" she gasped, "Let me go!"

"Not until it's safe to let you go," Puck answered, resorting to bodily picking her up from the ground as she struggled, "And judging by the look on Santana and Sam's faces, it's going to be a while."

"What do you – _Noah_!" Slapping her hands down on his arms, her heels glanced off of his shins and knees. Knowing she'd caused him some discomfort because he'd winced and grunted, she tried to kick him again.

Instead, Brittany suddenly stepped in front of her, pressing down on Rachel's hands. "_Rache_," she hissed, chancing a glance over her shoulder before meeting Rachel's stubborn glare again, "Stop. Sam n' Santana can handle themselves! Do you really think they'd _hurt _each other?"

Rachel angled her chin up, trying to see over the blonde. "No, but, are you sure?"

Rolling her eyes, Brittany clapped her hands on either side of Rachel's face. "Look," she stepped aside, "Does it look like they're actually fighting physically?" Fading to the side, dropping her hands away, Rachel barely paid attention, her body sagging with relief in Puck's arms when she took in the scene before her.

Though incensed and full of peacocking vitriol evident in her voice and body as she jutted her finger in Sam's direction, Santana wasn't assaulting the boy. And though he had his chest puffed out, his jaw clenched as he growled back at her, biceps tensing under his shirt sleeves, Sam wasn't invading Santana's space or shoving her back from him.

Relaxing even more, enough for Puck to let her feet touch the pavement again, Rachel leaned back into her friend. "At least," she sighed, sending her ruined tea a regretful look, her gaze moving back to Santana and Sam soon enough, conceding mirthlessly, "This is progress."

"Yeah," Puck snorted, moving his arms up, around her shoulders and leaning into her in turn, "If you call no bloodshed progress. You know what you're going to have to do soon, though, right?"

"Yeah, Rache" Brittany echoed, humming and answering him for her, "You're gonna have to make up your mind."

Rachel swallowed. Santana and Sam were slowing down, their lips almost starting to twitch into smiles again, Santana even turning her head when they'd calmed enough to catch Rachel's eye, apologizing for bumping into her hard enough to make her drop her drink, with Sam immediately butting in with an apology for making Santana round so fiercely that she'd knocked into Rachel in the first place, and Rachel, shaking her head, smiled agreeingly at them, letting things cool for the moment.

At least for Sam and Santana. "Pick one, you mean," she whispered lowly, through her teeth and loud enough for only Puck and Brittany to hear. Then, wriggling out of Puck's arms, and avoiding looking directly at anyone, she picked up her ruined tea cup and deposited it into the nearest trash can. "Well?" she turned on her heel to face Sam and Santana again, tellingly saying no more, who was going to buy her new tea to make up for this… _Innocent_ accident?


	186. Chapter 186

**A/N: **Prompt from charliescoloringbook, who supplied the first sentence. I don't even know. XD Thanks!

* * *

"What are you staring at?"

Santana coolly met Rachel's gaze. "What, you want to decide what I can and can't look at now?"

Letting out a harsh breath, Rachel's cheeks puffed out for a second. "That's _not_ what I said," she huffed, staring pointedly at Santana, "And you know it. All I _did_ ask…" Her fingers fluttered in the air, her head shaking as she glanced briefly at the ceiling, "Was what you were looking at."

Raising her eyebrow, Santana dog-eared the corner of her page, closing her book smartly in between her thighs. It dipping slightly, the corner of her lips quirked up when she noticed Rachel watching. "Is there nothing up there?" she asked airily.

"Just the rafters and countless _eons_ of dust, no doubt." Rachel snorted. "It's a wonder we're not _all _stricken with allergies, the way this – "

"_Oh_ no," Santana wagged her finger in the air, cutting Rachel off, "Stop right there. If _you_…" She looked at Rachel pointedly, "Want to risk your life, have at it. But better a day when's neither me nor Porcelain's here, kay?"

Her lips bowing with the barest hint of a pout, Rachel practically flopped back, arms crossing over her chest. "You're not going to tell me what you were doing, then?" she pressed, still, eyes glittering even under her eyelashes.

Santana shifted, pushing up further on her heels, shifting further back on the couch. She held her book up in the air. "You _think_…" she drawled, "It had _anything _to do with trying to understand this book?" Vanna White-ing her hand up and down its spine, she bared her teeth at Rachel. "Hmmm?"

Rachel's mouth opened, then closed, her expression softening just enough so it wasn't accusing anymore; instead, full of barely concealed suspicion and curiosity, she tilted her head, meeting Santana's eyes that way, "In an actually _wanting _to read way?" She adopted a faux airy voice, "Well, I _say_, Miss Lopez, this has never happened before!"

Smirking, shaking her head, Santana smoothly rose from the couch. "Be that as it may, heh," she hummed, leaning in shortly to press the pad of her finger against the tip of Rachel's nose, smirk widening, "Sorry to disappoint and run." Tapping Rachel's nose again, she tucked her book under her arm, straightened, and strode into her portion of the loft. "I do, after all," she called back, amusedly, circling her finger in the air, "Have some _staring _to do that has _nothing _– ooh, _burn _– to do with, oh, can you believe it? _You_."


	187. Chapter 187

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Berrittana - date night. Thanks!

* * *

It was Santana who first broached the idea of a date night. Having burnt out after a heavy afternoon of Sue Sylvester Cheerio practice, wanting nothing more than a night full of her two girls, she barely even thought of taking into account Rachel's busy schedule. Already knowing Brittany would be up for it as soon as her muscles relaxed, able to lift up from the bench in the Cheerio's locker room, she texted Rachel a cajoling hello. _Hey_, she typed, _Meet up ur place tonight? 8? Let's go for dinner._

_I've cleared my schedule, _Rachel responded, _Up until eleven is your time._

Smiling, Santana dropped a quick kiss to Brittany's mouth, pulling the girl up. "C'mon," she urged, coaxing her up and into her car, "Let's go get ready to grab Rachel." She would wait until later in the evening to find out why Rachel had put a cap onto the evening at eleven. After all, now, she groaned, practically flowing into the driver's seat, all she could think about was shower sex with Brittany in her private bathroom and getting to see her other girl later.

And, indeed, hours later, squeaky clean with Brittany vibrating in the passenger's side seat, each girl dressed to the nines, Santana parked her car in front of Rachel's house with seconds to spare. Knowing that did not only Rachel appreciate her being so on time, but did her fathers too, Santana jumped out, scurrying around to open Brittany's door for her as well. "Come on," she smiled, clasping Brittany's hand in hers, "Knowing her, Rachel's waiting for us."

Smiling herself, Brittany lightly tugged on Santana's hand. "You think," she looked down, taking in herself, "Rache'll like my new dress?"

Santana laughed. "She'll be blind not to!" she answered, gently kissing Brittany's cheek, "And you already know she's not."

"But what if she became newly so?" Forehead creasing with worry, Brittany pouted.

"She'd have told us." Firmly but gently shutting down the blonde's train of thought, Santana led her towards Rachel's front door. "Right?"

Tilting her head, Brittany slowly smiled. "Right!"

"And because she didn't…" Santana pressed the doorbell, now splitting her attention between her girlfriend and Rachel's front door, "We can assume…"

The door swung open, Hiram Berry practically beaming at them, "Hi, girls. Please, come on in."

"…That she can still see! Hi, Mr. Berry."

Laughing good naturedly at Brittany's outburst, Santana nodded, squeezing her hand as she pulled Brittany inside. "Right. Rachel ready soon?"

Hiram rolled his eyes. "Is she ever?" he whispered dramatically, one hand in front of his lips. Obviously not trying to not be heard, his teeth flashed when Rachel's protest projected loudly and clearly down the stairs. He inclined his head, "You know where her door is."

Santana smirked. "Thanks, Mr. B. C'mon, B."

Hurrying up the stairs, letting go of Brittany's hand halfway up as she insisted on stepping down on ever step while Santana jumped from every other to the other, even in her heels, Santana caught Rachel around the waist just outside of her room, her arms wrapping around her.

"Santana!" Rachel laughed, hands coming up to settle on her shoulders, "What a surprise!"

"Yeah, right." Her turn to roll her eyes, Santana dropped a loud, strong kiss to Rachel's forehead, happily disentangling herself so Brittany could move in, lips pressing above Rachel's eyebrow, "Like we're here out of the blue."

Brittany's hands smoothed over Rachel's shoulders and down her arms, stroking from the sleeves of her dress to the skin of her elbows and forearms, her fingers finally lacing with Rachel's. "You _were_ expecting us, right?"

The blonde sounded so hopeful and wounded at the same time that Santana knew she'd never have been able to say no to her, and Rachel was no different. "Of _course_ I knew you were coming!" she said indignantly, pushing up on her toes to give Brittany a proper kiss, and Santana swallowed, already predicting what the both of their lip glosses would taste like together. Brittany was wearing cotton candy, Santana already knew, but if she wasn't wrong, Rachel was probably wearing some kind of berry or fruit, and…

"And so beautiful, too! I love your dress," Rachel continued, seemingly always knowing the best thing to say, and in that moment, Santana fell harder for her. Brittany, for her part, brightened, stealing another kiss.

Enjoying the sight, Santana was still surprised when Rachel's hand pressed against hers. "Santana?" Rachel murmured, abruptly snug against her side, "You ready?"

Blinking, realizing she'd allowed herself to get lost in thought, Santana grinned. "Of course, babe," she leaned in, stealing her own kiss, eagerly drinking in her… Watermelon, hmm? mixing interestingly with her own brown sugar, "If we only have three hours, heh, yeah right, we should be leaving."

"Yeah, what's that about?" Brittany asked, sidling in, pulling Rachel down the stairs, Santana still easily keeping up and managing a wave at the two Mr. Berrys waving from the kitchen, "Why do we have a time limit?"

Rachel's cheeks reddened. "If I get home at eleven…" she began, wishing her fathers a goodbye and smiling when first Brittany opened her house door for her, then again when Santana opened her car door for her, "Then I am guaranteed to fall asleep at a sufficient enough time to give myself at least six hours of sleep, taking in account the amount of time I'll need to set aside for thinking about you two."

"Wait wait wait." Santana choked, laughing as she whipped her head around, meeting Rachel's dark eyes in the backseat, "You're saying you need to have time _to calm down from seeing us_? To _masturbate_?"

"I said no such thing!"

But, "_Really_?" Brittany exclaimed, forgoing sitting in her prior seat to slide in next to Rachel, twisting around to put her hands on either of Rachel's cheeks, pulling her around and smiling broadly at her, "Oh, Rachel, you are so _adorable_!"

Bright red, lips pursing and opening as she seemed to be continually on the verge of saying and not saying anything, Rachel finally settled on a kind of breathy, reluctant laugh and, turning around enough to drop a loud, sloppy kiss to the tip of her nose after tugging her forward, Santana started her car. "Come on," she grinned, moving her attention to Brittany through the rearview mirror, "If we wants to give our girl enough time to give herself a happy with, sadly, _without _us, then, c'mon B, let's get our asses to Breadstix."

And, still grinning as Brittany immediately started babbling about the meatballs and spaghetti at Breadstix, Rachel wisely dropping trying to defend her case, Santana paused just long enough to meet Rachel's gaze in the mirror. Winking at her, shifting her car into gear, and pulling away with images of taking her smaller girlfriend in the Breadstix bathroom playing through her mind, Santana let an innocent, expectant, quite plain to Rachel what it meant whistle leave her mouth.

And, her cheeks still pink with her hands laced together in her lap, lips curved up, meeting Santana in the mirror again, Rachel whistled softly, teasingly, promisingly back.

And, joining in, happily copying them, Brittany finally, unintentionally, made the harmony perfect.


	188. Chapter 188

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Rachel and Santana fighting over the last cookie. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's not playing fair. She's dragging the last cookie along her lower lip, her upper lip barely kissing it, and as she does so, her pout scarcely wavers under Santana's heated stare.

Quirking her eyebrow, Santana tilts her head. Darting her tongue out, flicking it, she smirks as Rachel's gaze drop to follow the motion. "You really think that's the smartest move?" she asks, lightly tapping her fingers against her cheek, pinkie just above the swell of her mouth. It's designed to catch even more of Rachel's attention, and it does.

"I'm the one with the cookie; what could be better than that?" Pulling it back just enough to prevent it from getting damp, Rachel doesn't bother to pretend like she's looking anywhere else than she is.

Rewarding her with another flick of her tongue, tip running across her upper teeth, Santana knows she's only seconds away from Rachel relaxing, dropping the cookie as she closes the distance to wrap her arms around Santana and kiss and press up against her.

And indeed, "Uh-uh," Santana reaches out, catching Rachel's wrist, sliding up to make sure she won't drop her prize as her other hand pulls at Rachel's shirt, the girl having taken a step closer. Slipping under the shirt, skimming the pads of her fingers along her stomach and side, eliciting a laugh and shiver, Santana only allows the briefest of kisses. Instead, sucking on Rachel's lower lip as she moves her head back, smirking at the frustrated whimper that gets her, she swoops in and to the side, turning her head, her grip tightening around Rachel's hand as she bites into the cookie. "Too slow," she purrs, succeeding in getting another bite before Rachel jerks herself away.

"_Too slow_," Rachel parrots, tossing the rest of the cookie at the table behind her. Swinging her arms up, around Santana's shoulders and neck, she pulls her down, into a firm, hungry kiss. "This fast enough for you?" she whispers, laughs, and then, suddenly, pushes Santana down onto the couch.

Blinking, watching as Rachel straddles her, Santana hums as she settles solidly onto her lap. "Never," she continues to smirk, dragging her nails along Rachel's bare thighs, "Unless, of course…" Lifting her chin, she softly, teasingly, kisses Rachel's jaw, "You want to make up for that sweet, _sweet _cookie."

"The cookie that's vegan?" Tossing her hair, Rachel smiles down at her. Her fingers curl in Santana's hair.

"No." Santana shakes her head. "The cookie," she kisses Rachel again, lips curling up, "That'll _guarantee_…" She picks at Rachel's shirt again, yanking it off of her, securing Rachel against her and arching into her, helping increase the body contact between them, "Me getting some of _your _sticky-sweet."


	189. Chapter 189

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; soap. Thanks!

* * *

"Make sure to get everything."

"_Hey_. You want to do this instead?"

"I already told you I don't."

"Then shut up. I _gots _this."

"Eloquent as always. Really, Santana, if you would just set your mind to it, I'm sure you'd be able to act the young _lady_ you _are_ - _ahh_!"

"Heh. Oh yeah, who's good?"

"_Santana_."

"Oh _for_ - _Berry_."

"Do you want me to throw this back at you?"

"_No_, but I think this _car_ would want you to hurries up and wax it. Capiche?"

"Not that I'd expect you to be paying attention to me, but if you _had_ been, you'd have noticed that I was _already_ in the process of doing so."

"Wah wah wah."

"Santana!"

"Told'ja you'd have to put up with me if you wanted to raise money this way. Tell me again why we can't just do the sexy calendar and be _done _with it?"

"You know why."

"No, I only know why because you're shy as _crap_. Rachel. Sweetie. If you gots it, flaunt it."

"What? And make fun of myself? I may be confident in myself, but that doesn't mean - ."

"What? Mean what?"

"…It just doesn't. Mean anything."

"Oh my _god_. You're hot. You got a smokin' body, okay? Can't we just put an _end_ to this and do it the _easy _way?"

"…What?"

"Easy way. Modeling. _Jesus_. Put two and two together, Barbra!"

"No, no, what? You… What? _Me_…?"


	190. Chapter 190

There had been a cat who had shown up sometimes when Rachel wasn't there. It had liked to curl up next to Santana, slipping in from the window attached to the fire escape or coming up from the stairway to dance between her ankles and through the door. It was a light brown Persian with tan ears, darker brown mane and eyes, and the first time Santana found it sharing her pillow, she about had a heart attack.

Jerking back, staring, she'd jumped off of her bed to stumble out through the apartment, calling out harshly for her roommates, the cat held securely in her hands out in front of her. When no one answered her, she'd dropped the cat onto the floor in front of the couch. Freaked out by how it watched her, and getting no response from either Kurt or Rachel via phone, she hadn't known if her kicking it out of the apartment would be encouraged or never forgiven, but thankfully, as soon as Kurt had shown up, it had been off like a shot, disappearing out the door.

"Of course we didn't get a cat," Rachel had said later, smiling plainly, "Not without holding an official meeting."

"Good," Santana had responded, and thought nothing more about it.

Until the cat kept on showing up. Only announcing its presence by dropping down next to her, rarely ever meowing, instead settling in or calmly licking itself, its brown eyes had been always too… _Knowledgeable _as they looked up at her. Purring when Santana finally gave in and started petting it about a week after it first showed up, mumbling about how at least it was clean and not a flea-bitten-homeless-mangy-stray and it was _only _welcome if it didn't shed on any of her clothes, it had only put up a fuss if Santana was slow in letting it out if, for some reason, she'd closed its port of entry and exit.

Eventually, after about a month of its sporadic visitations, Santana had thought about trying to find out who it belonged to. Only bothering to talk with the other tenants of the apartment building when she happened upon them to ask them if they owned the cat, as well as those she knew lived in the buildings on either side, she had been always turned away. Truth was, it had had no collar, never stuck around long enough to give her the chance to think about following it, and had never had a set schedule.

Which, fine. Whatever.

All it was, she'd finally decided, was a warm being that seemed to only want to be with _her_. Though Kurt had greeted it a time or two, succeeding in finally making him stop staring at her with suspicion and disbelief whenever she had brought it up, it had never met Rachel. Which, for some reason, had never bothered Rachel.

"No, I'm not jealous," Rachel had offered one night, showing up twenty minutes after the cat had left, it having only stayed for five minutes before that, "I'm glad you have something to make you happy."

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?" Santana had retorted.

Rachel smiled at her. "You're not as lonely, right?" And, without waiting for an answer, she'd swept into the bathroom, starting the shower and effectively ending the conversation.

"Lonely." Santana crossed her arms, "As if."

But it had been true. The cat _had _been acting like a companion, always purring and very content to just spend time with her. A couple of times it had even spent the night with her, a small ball of companionship vibrating and _there _against her hip. Santana had stroked its head and back, even crying herself to sleep into its fur the couple of times she'd been the loneliest. And it had always known when she had needed it the most. Somehow. So much so that Santana had started to even think about the cat as _hers_. Had started to think about giving it a name. A proper name, instead of _You_, or _Cat_, or _It_. Something that would have made it _okay _for her to have taken it the vet that one time it showed up obviously under the weather, coincidentally the same day Rachel had shown up early, hot and almost delirious with fever five minutes after it had dragged itself out of the window.

Honestly, if Santana hadn't known better, she'd almost have suspected Rachel had been staying away on purpose.

But, instead, as life worked, she had never gotten the chance to get that far. Instead, something else took up her attention. Something else that made her smile and feel as accepted as the cat had.

Something else that had been some_one_ else named Dani.

And as Santana's life had become more wound up with her new girlfriend's, with less and less of her time spent at the apartment, and less and less of her time spent _alone _at the apartment, the cat had started showing up less and less. Even late at night or in the early morning, when it had liked to snuggle, it seemed to spend more time _away _than _there_.

"Hey," Santana had whispered one night, half-asleep and barely aware of the small weight settling onto her chest, "Are you leaving me?"

In answer, the cat had softly nudged her jaw, whiskers and nose tickling her skin. Brushing its head along her chin, it had paused, claws gently kneading along her neck and collar bone, body barely seeming to have been settled.

Santana swallowed. "Is this goodbye?" she asked thickly, clumsy fingers tracing between the cat's ears.

The cat's purr thrummed into her. Its nose, sunken in so close to its mouth that it was as if kissing her properly, pressed gently under her jaw.

"Oh," Santana had whispered, already falling back asleep, fingers slacking and falling heavily, helplessly on the cat's neck and shoulder blades, as if to keep it there, with her, "Please don't… Please don't… Go…

But it had. Disappearing as mysteriously as it had shown up, slipping away as quietly as it had appeared, Santana had barely allowed herself the chance to fully experience its departure. Instead, falling even more in love with Dani with each passing cat-free day and week and month, the memory of the little cat seemed to seep out of her mind. It became like a recollection of warmth with the barest hint of the bittersweet, and, spoken of sparsely, it became remembered, eventually, even less.

Until finally, the only thing that made Santana remember her little companion was when she looked into Rachel's eyes and realized, startlingly, suddenly every time, that they were the exact same color.

The exact same color.

There had been a cat who had shown up sometimes when Rachel wasn't there. It had liked to curl up next to Santana, slipping in from the window attached to the fire escape or coming up from the stairway to dance between her ankles and through the door. It was a light brown Persian with tan ears, darker brown mane and eyes, and the first time Santana found it sharing her pillow, she about had a heart attack.


	191. Chapter 191

**A/N: **Prompted by sylar-frost, who asked for non-established Pezpezpezberry with, hopefully, smut, so here, this is before the smut. That'll be coming later. :D Thanks!

* * *

Rachel knew who the Lopez triplets were. Three girls in her grade, still practically a year older than her, all were girls she didn't anticipate getting to know anytime soon. None were in glee club, nor in any other she was probably ever going to join (except for celibacy club, but that was special), so really, she figured, reassuring herself, she wouldn't have to worry them.

Oh, how naïve she had been, she thought, half a year later, staring at the three girls, how naïve. Because seriously. Swallowing, licking her lips and sitting back on her heels, arms loosely crossed across her chest, it was almost like _she _was the one in charge. "Really," she whispered, tilting her head, smiling, "You three are so sure you're in the right position to woo me. One at a time?"

Maria and Gabriela and Santana looked at each other. "No," Maria stepped forward first, jutting her chin out, "Who said that?"

"Yeah?" Santana echoed (or was that Gabriela? both girls were wearing similar shirts, and, honestly, Rachel was a bit too preoccupied to remember who was who), "Don't go puttin' words in our mouths."

"No, no, wait." Rachel shook her head. She raised her hand. "_Together_?" Her voice squeaked, and she grimaced. "Together?" she repeated once she'd gotten her voice under control, the word coming out more solidly.

Santana-Gabriela and Gabriela-Santana nodded, Maria crossing her arms in front of them, smirking.

Rachel's jaw unhinged. "Not separate?" It was obvious, she thought, shaking her head internally, that she was nowhere near prepared for this. Each girl, by themselves, _maybe_, she'd already decided, forgoing judgment until she'd gotten to know them, but…

_Together_?

She was even squeaking inside her head.

Gabriela-_probably_ took another step forward. "It's not incest," she smiled.

"Oh no," Maria added, sniffing, lips curling up, "Especially not with what we…"

Santana-_probably _practically preened, "Have planned."

"Oh." Rachel swallowed again, her voice much fainter than before, heart thumping, shoulders slumping enough to be noticeable as she looked from girl to girl, "Good to know. Good…" she tugged at her sweater, eyes sweeping up and down Maria and Gabriela and Santana, somehow, in some way unable to tell herself she was playing with fire, mouth curving up anyway, "…To know."


	192. Chapter 192

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; first fight and making up. Eh, I tried, but I don't really like this one. Thanks!

* * *

"You told Puck we were dating?"

Looking up at the harsh growl, Rachel's eyes widened behind her glasses. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"_No_. _God dammit_, Rachel! Like _hell _you weren't!" Voice rising, phone clutched in the hand wavering in the air in front of her, Santana pushed her way into Rachel's bedroom, "_Fuck_, Rachel! How _could _you?"

Flinching back, Rachel rose from her seat. "I…" she blinked, lips twisting, palms up and surrendering, "How could I? What? Santana? I… I didn't know I shouldn't."

"_Bullshit_." Santana jutted her finger at Rachel, her phone compressing in her fist. "When did I give you permission to go public?"

"Per – _permission_?" Rachel snapped up. It was her turn to glare at Santana. "When have I _ever _needed permission from you? If we had _discussed_ – "

Santana let out a furious wordless noise, and she slapped her hands over her face, phone whacking against her cheekbone. She breathed in raggedly through her nose. "I'm not _out_, Rachel," she groaned, almost crying, her voice was so thick and disbelieving, "And I thought you _knew _that."

Opening her mouth, Rachel almost immediately closed it when Santana's words registered. "I'm sorry," she murmured, dawning regret making her words breathy and low, "I hadn't realized that applied to glee club, too.

"I really _should _have," she admitted, stepping forward and hesitantly pulling Santana's hands from her face; smiling when the girl allowed her to do so, her not-so-dark-anymore eyes meeting hers, "Instead of assuming that everything would be… Well… _Copacetic_ as soon as we embarked on this new adventure of being Pezberry." Her smile gentled, turning shy, "I just… It's no excuse, but I was very excited when I informed him of our new relationship. He had, after all, been teasing me for too long, and I just…" Her grip tightened momentarily around Santana's hands, and she flushed, dropping her gaze to the ground, "I needed _someone _to squeal to that wasn't… You know…" Her lips twitched, "You."

A loud, unbidden snort left Santana's mouth, and suddenly, without any strength behind it, she disentangled her hand from Rachel's to tap it against Rachel's cheek. It was enough like the barest bones of a slap that Rachel gasped, staring incredulously at her, but Santana only rolled her eyes. "God dammit, _come here_," she hissed, throwing her arms around the other girl's shoulders to tug her into her arms, pressing her chin into the side of her neck, "How in the hell can you be so _frustrating _and _adorable _at the same time?"

"It's a gift…?" Lightly huffing when Santana didn't refute her statement, Rachel wrapped her arms around Santana's waist. She pressed a quick kiss to Santana's forehead. "Do you want me to tell him I was lying? Threaten him into staying quiet?" She pulled back, "Because I can, okay? You wouldn't _believe _what I have on that boy."

Appearing to mull over the offer, Santana sighed. "Don't take it back," she shook her head, causing her chin, still resting above Rachel's shoulder, to dig slightly into her, "But, yes…" She trailed off, straightening and raising her gaze enough to meet Rachel's eyes, "Set the fear of Jewish God and my own razor blade toting ass into him to keeps his mouth _shut_?"

Rachel bit her lower lip. "Okay," she agreed, nodding, her hand already reaching out to search for her phone on her desk, sighing as she found it a second later, "Good. I can do that." Closing her eyes, she kissed Santana's forehead again. Even if it wasn't her choice to keep quiet about their relationship, she thought, listening to it ring, it really _wasn't _just her choice.


	193. Chapter 193

**A/N: **Prompt from thedisassociation; 'Sam was grinning that stupid boyish smile and Rachel was beaming at him, a blush painting her cheeks. Santana didn't like it.' This got away from me, but oh well. And, also, obviously this takes place in the second season. XD Thanks!

* * *

Sam was grinning that stupid boyish smile and Rachel was beaming at him, a blush painting her cheeks.

Santana didn't like it. Didn't like it at _all_.

Sneering at the two from behind her nail file, Santana both cursed her perfect viewpoint from her spot atop the risers and thanked it for allowing her to see this… Possible _situation_ she would have to get… _Involved _with before it became _certain_.

"A wonderful duet, guys," Mr. Schuester grinned, beaming at the trouty mouth and hobbit, clapping his hands as he stood up.

"Right, if you wanted us to die from _boredom_," Santana interrupted. "The Carpenters, _really_?"

"Santana…" Sighing, Mr. Schuester gave her a pointed look, "You'll get your chance next week."

"Yeah, right," Quinn piped up, giving Santana an unamused, disgruntled look, "If Santana can just make up her _mind _already."

Convinced Quinn wasn't just talking about their song selection, Santana glared at her. "Like you have a leg to stand on, Q, so shut the fuck up."

"_Santana_," Mr. Schuester snapped, "_Detention_, tomorrow."

Santana's teeth clacked together as her automatic protest met deaf ears, her teacher's burning stare not giving. "It's just the _F word_," she hissed, then, "Or, what, you're so hard up you don't want _anyone_ getting _any _of their jollies, no matter how _stupid _you were for letting that creepy wide-eyed alien otherwise known as Miss Pillsbury dirty dance through your fingers with that hot, _hot _dentist?"

Her teacher clenched his jaw, and, _dude_, his nostrils flared, "_Detention, _**_today_**."

Rolling her eyes, Santana sat back in her seat. "Whatever," she spat, and meant it. Raising her nail file back to the nails of her right hand, she ignored her teacher outright to watch Rachel make it safely back to her seat, Sam sliding into a seat on the other side of the room. Both were glancing at her and Mr. Schuester instead of each other, and, shifting enough to thrust her chest out and smirk in view of both, Santana made sure, for the rest of the period, that neither looked at each other again.

* * *

"I'm surprised you practically volunteered for detention."

Freezing for just a second, Santana turned on her heel. "Berry," she greeted flatly, not bothering to stop herself from closing her locker behind her and leaning against it, her hip now cocked against the cool surface.

Rachel gazed at her. Her chin slightly tilted, heavy bangs sliding along her forehead, the dark beginnings of what was either a blush or embarrassment spread along her cheeks. "Was our duet really so bad?"

Santana narrowed her eyes.

"Sam isn't the natural lead Finn or Artie may be," Rachel continued, allowing, "But I thought our voices melded well enough to merit more than your scorn."

Closing her eyes, Santana scoffed Rachel's words under her breath. "_God_," she curled her hand around Rachel's arm, just above her elbow, yanking her forward enough so the tips of her shoes banged into the tips of Santana's boots, "_Listen _to yourself!"

"I'm _trying _– "

"_No_." Santana shook her head, shaking Rachel's arm a second later, "You're really not. When have you _ever_…" She shook Rachel again, "Settled for _less than the best_?"

Rachel frowned. "Our duets were already decided," she picked out carefully, pausing between each word, "Even if that…" Her gaze lowered, "…_Decision _was more due to no one else volunteering to sing with me."

"_Volunteering_." Santana laughed. "When has _anyone _volunteered to sing with you?

"_Unless_," she raised her voice, speaking over Rachel's protest, "They wanted more than what you were prepared to give them?" Slamming her free hand forward, over Rachel's shoulder, turning and trapping her back against the locker she'd been tensed against, Santana leaned in. "You're better than some boy," she hissed, searching Rachel's eyes, "Who gives you googly eyes and only pays attention to you when you're singing together." Growling, rocking back and forth on her feet when Rachel didn't react, Santana flicked her tongue across her lower lip and took a step back. Completely moving away from Rachel, she crossed her arms.

"Santana…"

Santana shook her head. "You're friends with Sam, _great_. But so what? Five seconds after dating Quinn, he wants _you_? Because you sing_ barely tolerably_ together?" Moving forward again to slap her hand against the locker next to Rachel's cheek, Santana stared at her. "This is for your own good," she whispered, her voice softening, becoming cajoling; perfectly covering the fakest of honesty she could muster in her tone, Santana's blank expression expertly slid back over her face as she stepped back and, turning away, knowing what she had to do, the sharpest of smiles crossed her lips. "Because honey?" she whispered, venomous honey dripping from her tongue, "Sam's mine."


	194. Chapter 194

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Hogwarts!Rachel and Durmstrang!Santana. This one was fun. :D Thanks!

* * *

"She's staring at you again," Sugar offered uselessly, tittering as the Durmstrang students walked past them to take seats at the farther end of their table.

"So?" Barely feeling the need to respond, Rachel still gave Sugar the time it took to lift her eyes from the book she was reading so she could glare at her. It wasn't because the girl deserved the action, per se, but more because Rachel had always found her insufferable more often than not. And now, just because this for all intents and purposes nameless girl seemed to have taken a fancy to her – Rachel winced, rolling her eyes in her head – said insufferable girl was only becoming more annoying.

"So?" Sugar repeated, flinching, her eyes wide. It was clear she had not been expecting that sort of response, and she tugged at Quinn's robe sleeve as if asking her if she had heard the blasphemy.

Jerking her arm back, Quinn scowled at the younger girl, coolly going back to eating her croissant a second later. It obviously wasn't her matter, and Rachel envied her.

Glaring at the blonde for her brush-off, Sugar turned back to Rachel a second later. A new line between her eyes, it made Rachel giggle, and though Sugar probably knew why she was suddenly laughing, she did nothing about it. "Well then," she sniffed, crossing her arms, "Behoove it _me _attempting to give my friends happiness."

Rachel snorted. Friends? She and Sugar had never been the _best_ of _friends_. Acquaintances with the barest hint of camaraderie when the end of year exams came, maybe, but nothing more. "You feel the need to poke your nose in things that have nothing to do with you why?" she stated blandly, turning the page in her book.

"Nothing to – I'm giving you the chance at _love_," Sugar snapped, overdramatic as ever, "In hopes that it might calm your _intolerable_-ness for everyone not up to your _standards_, and yet you…" She sniffed, eyes burning into Rachel's, as she'd bothered to look up again, "Close yourself _off_ even more?"

"I'll have you know," Rachel closed her book, barely taking the time to slide her bookmark into place before plopping it down in front of her, making its resulting cloud of dust coat the breakfast she still had not touched, "That the only few who find me…" She gritted her teeth, but held back her anger, "_Intolerable_, know that I am not looking for nor _have _been looking for anyone to dally myself with." Only slanting her eyes away from the other girl as loud laughter broke at the end of the table the Durmstrang students were situated, she allowed herself an extra second to scout out the shape of the girl who apparently had been stalking her – if you believed Sugar and her _cronies_ – for the past two weeks.

Still, jolting as her eyes widened of their own accord when she realized the girl referenced was, indeed – _somehow_? – staring back at her, Rachel hissed when heat prickled along the tops of her ears and down across her cheeks. Tearing her attention away, she grumbled, reaching forward to pull the nearest bowl of vegan food towards her, grousing under her breath about _foreign busybodies _while doing so.

Because god forbid, she threw another glare at Sugar, who had already tuned her out, sensing she wouldn't be able to get anymore gossip out of her, she chose to pursue _anything _or chose to pursue _nothing _with their neighbors from the East.

Even if, she whispered so low and buried in her mind she knew that those who were well versed in Legilimency would be hard pressed to pick up, _maybe _she found this foreign student, the dark and exotic _Santana_, so different than those Hogwarts had introduced to her through the years, the faintest, faintest, _faintest_…

Bit intriguing.


	195. Chapter 195

**A/N: **Prompt from Riley; Santana teaches Rachel the art of drinking Vodka while Rachel is trying to watch Funny Girl, which winds up with drunk Pezberry. Thanks!

* * *

"_Shhh_." Rachel snaps her hand in Santana's direction, her fingers flapping open and closed, like she's clawing at the air.

Staring at the offending extremity, Santana rolls her eyes so violently it's almost like she doesn't need them. "Hey," she huffs, lifting her own hand to pull Rachel's down, "'Member what I's said?"

Rachel glances at her out of the corner of her eye. "Right," she smiles, though it's not a real smile, already turning back to the TV screen, her hand pulled back to her side, "As you were."

"As _you_ – " Santana laughs, and suddenly, Funny Girl pauses on the screen. It's like the fourth most important moment in the whole movie, and Rachel snarls, swinging around. Pouncing on Santana, her mouth moves over and above her in the area of her mouth and chin, almost touching her lips as she growls down at her.

Santana's right eyebrow quirks up. Shoving her pack of Twizzlers at Rachel, she doesn't give in to her glare. "You wanted to know the fine art of vodka?" she asks, already looking down, towards the bottle against the couch and tucked between her ankles. It's away from Rachel's glowing eyes, and she counts it as a win as Rachel slides down, now only partly on her.

One of Rachel's shoulders lift up. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Looking squarely at the other girl, Santana focuses completely on her.

A heavy sigh leaves Rachel's body. "_Yes_," she presses, rolling her eyes. Setting the rest of the Twizzlers down onto the arm of the couch next to her, she tears into a singular one with her teeth.

Santana grins. Thank god Twizzlers are vegan, she thinks; they're perfect for distracting hobbits. "Good." Nodding her head, she sits up, pushing Rachel off of her enough so she can bend and reach for the discarded bottle, the girl doing her best to keep upright on her knees a couple of inches away along the sofa.

"Here." Presenting Santana with the shot glass she'd confiscated earlier that evening, Rachel glares at her, swallowing the last of her candy, "Okay?"

Santana glares back at her. "_No_ okay."

Rachel's lips twitch. "_How_?"

But, already, bored, Santana slaps her fingers against Rachel's pursed lips. "Le'mme tell you," she breathes in deeply, flicking the shot glass away and replacing it with the proper sized glass she'd been using, "Vodka? Okay for shots, sure, but _so _not the best to do."

Looking down at shimmering, clear liquid taking up the bottom of the glass after Santana tips the suddenly open bottle of vodka into it, one corner of Rachel's lips curls up. She twists around, turning back with the bottle of tea she'd been drinking earlier in her relaxed hand. "I think I've got this," she juts her chin forward, smirking, "Mixer?"

Instead of answering right away, Santana takes it upon herself to pour it over the vodka. "Right," she agrees, nodding, "First rule of drinking vodka is that you give in to the fact that you'll drink more than you expect to.

"And that's because you _have _to," she smirks, continuing by pushing up on the glass, making it slop more into Rachel's mouth.

Coughing, gasping, Rachel glares at her again after swallowing. Swirling the drink in her glass, happily taking up less than half of it, she nods purposefully. "Fine," she nods stiffly, trying to relax back into her own part of the couch, no part of herself touching Santana anymore, "Finish the movie." Her fingers flutter in the air.

Having procured herself another glass, a little more vodka than what Rachel has with the same amount of tea acting as a mixer, Santana sighs, rolls her eyes again, and restarts the movie.

"Good," Rachel murmurs, giving in and leaning in, balancing precariously against her shoulder, "I _love _this movie."

Santana takes a deep sip. "Joy," she breathes, smirking only as Rachel snuggles into her, throwing back another mouthful of her drink and following it up with another Twizzler, "_Such _the important movie."

* * *

Halfway into the remaining movie, Rachel has accelerated her process of melting into Santana. "Have I told you," she starts, barely waiting for a pause in the movie, head moving up and to the side so she can more comfortably meet Santana's eyes, "That… _Alcohol_… Vo-vodka is… _Wonderful_?"

Santana snorts.

"No, no." Sitting up, a slightly cool hand pressing against Santana's forearm, her glass balanced in her lap, Rachel peers down at her. "It's _great_."

Santana laughs. "I know," she drawls, lifting her glass in a lazy toast, "Or else why'd I given you from my stash?"

"Your stash?"

Taking in Rachel's raised eyebrows, Santana snorts again. "Sweetie," she sighs, her free hand coming up to cup Rachel's chin, turning her attention back to the TV where Barbra Streisand is practically waiting for her, "Why you ace – assept me to help you, but, practic'lly at the same time, _don't_ accept me for _how_ I ha… Already have it? Are you worried about how I…" She squints, "_Got_ it?"

Rachel stares down at her. Her brown eyes wide and almost full of pupil, they suddenly, startlingly, scrape along Santana's awareness. "No," Rachel's head dips down, nose practically dragging along her jaw, Santana's quick indrawn breath letting her know how off-kilter the girl's actions have made her, "The less I know the better o…_off_ I am… Right?" Her hand clumsily slaps Santana's forearm, and she dissolves into giggles before Santana registers it.

Santana shrugs coolly. "Dunno," she smirks, winking as soon as Rachel's eyes lift up to meet hers again, "But not denyin' it!"

"Like you could!" Practically bouncing on her lap after slipping down and forward, Rachel bites her lower lip. "But. No. Se-seriously, Santana." She lifts her hand from Santana's arm, firming her expression. Her eyebrows lower solemnly over her eyes, and Santana barely holds back her own laughter. It's only because she wants to hear this that she waits.

Pushing her significantly emptier glass into the hand already up in the air, Rachel shakes it at her. "While not… Maybe…" Her eyes slant away and swoop back, flicking onto her glass before focusing on Santana, her body teetering forward as if led by her gaze, "For _every day_, I wouldn't mind…" She smiles, taking a sip of her drink, her fingernails tapping against the glass as she lowers her voice suggestively, "Taking a walk on the wild side every once in a while."

Santana looks at her. Her own drink in her left hand, she casually settles her right on the upper side of Rachel's thigh. Noticing the girl's shiver as her eyes follow her hand, she tilts her chin, "You mean drinking?" Watching Rachel's nod, she smiles. "Sure you're not talkin' 'bout something else?"

Rachel's brow furrows. "Something else…?" she asks, eyelids drooping as she rocks backward. But, as Santana straightens, her palm bracing against the couch cushion to help herself move forward, more into Rachel's space, Rachel drops back, her hands in the air; barely sloshing her drink, she manages to tense her legs and feet, succeeding in scuttling back. "Wait…" she protests, staring at Santana, "_Wait_. Aren't we w-watching Funny Girl?

"_Yes_!" she sits up even more, continuing, snapping her fingers, "We're watching!" Poking her finger at Santana, she glowers at her, "_Santana_. Turn the movie back on! We're not done!"

Santana groans. "We aren't?"

Rachel's face scrunches. "_No_! I would have remembered." Her eyes flash. "Even if I _am _drinking. I'd remember."

Opting not to bring up any of the examples where Rachel _hadn't_, indeed, remembered, Santana lifts her hands away from _anywhere_ near the other girl. "Fine," she grumbles, shoving the lip of her drink in between her lips and clicking the _play _button again to get the _so _not exciting movie playing again, "Whatever you want, princess."

"Princess?" Ten minutes into the return of the movie, Rachel's head nestles again into Santana's shoulder, her warmth plastering along her side. "Really?"

Santana groans again. "_Whatever_," she replies, reluctantly, telling herself not to move and pull the other girl more securely into her, "Like that's not what you _think_ you are, or anything."

Instead of leaving her alone or shifting away, Rachel smiles. "No, of course not," she whispers, leaning herself more solidly against Santana, burrowing into her as she picks up the earlier abandoned package of Twizzlers. Putting one of the vines between her teeth and biting it in half, she glances at Santana as her tongue swipes along her lower lip, sucking the bottom part fully into her mouth.

Catching the look and flash of tongue, Santana growls, and, for the second time that night, shoves her drink into her mouth.

Because drinking _is_, after all, she thinks, finally giving in and lightly wrapping herself around Rachel, angling better to support her and still find it comfortable, better than anything else she could, theoretically, ruin her friendship with Rachel over.

Dammit.


	196. Chapter 196

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Rachel sits on Santana's lap who's dressed as Mrs. Claus. Well, this is something at least. :D Thanks!

* * *

Santana's hands keep on wandering. Slapping naughty fingers away from the hem of her dress, Rachel gives her a warning look. "Move your fingers or I'll sit on them."

Santana wiggles her eyebrows. "Not convincing me not to, babe." Uncrossing her legs, she pulls her hands completely from Rachel's waist and spreads them out, smirking, "Well? Don't make Mama Claus wait."

Pressing her hand to her mouth to hide her laugh, Rachel glances quickly around the closed Santa's Grotto. She smoothes her hair out from under her idiotic elf hat. "It's on you if anyone comes upon us," she points at Santana before moving her hand down so she can stroke down Santana's nose and off the tip, "After all, I'm trusting your skills of threatening everyone in the vicinity to ensure we'll be alone."

"Hey, never doubt the sexy Latina in what she does best, hmm?" Sitting back more solidly against the throne, Santana gestures at her lap. "Now, what's the hold up? Mama Claus' gettin' cold. She needs a hot-ass elf to fulfill her contract."

"That makes me sound like I have no say in the matter."

"That's 'cuz you don't. Gets over here already."

Rachel tilts her head to the side, but even before she's done taking another sweep around the enclosure, she presses the palms of her hands against Santana's shoulders. "Are you Mama Claus or Mrs. Claus?" she asks, turning, sitting herself down sideways on Santana's lap.

Smirking triumphantly, Santana immediately pulls her closer, cupping her hips. "Depends," she whispers, lifting her chin and ghosting her lips across Rachel's jaw, murmuring throatily, "On if you want me naughty or nice?"

"I thought that's what _you're_ supposed to ask _me_?" Shivering, Rachel turns her head, kissing Santana deeply. "_Mmm_… San. Ask me."

Santana slides her hands up and down Rachel's sides, feeling how the elf costume hugs the contours of her body. "It's crazy how _hot _you look in this getup," she laughs, playing with the hem of her girlfriend's dress, "But _fuck _does it work for me."

Rachel kisses her solidly. "_Santana_. _Ask me_," she repeats against Santana's mouth, pouting, and pulls away enough so she can look at Santana through her eyelashes, "If I'm naughty or nice."

Surveying her, eyebrows rising, Santana nips at her lower lip. "Okay," she whispers, dipping her tongue out to trace along Rachel's lips, "Are you…" She wraps her arms around Rachel's waist, tugging her closer to her chest, "On my naughty list…? Or my…" Her fingernails dig into Rachel's thigh, "Nice list?"

Giggling, Rachel kisses her. "Why don't…" she leans in, sucking Santana's earlobe into her mouth, breathing teasingly against her jaw and neck, "You unwrap your present and find out?"

Santana laughs again. "Like I haven't been _trying to _already."

Rachel gently raps against her shoulder, fingers splaying out to hold her weight as she bends over her, drawing her lips to hers again. "_Hush_," she cajoles, her smirk growing as she kisses Santana deeper, her free hand finding one of Santana's and bringing it to her chest, her voice deepening as Santana starts taking over, "And start finding out if I've used that gift card for Victoria's Secret Kurt gave me or not…"


	197. Chapter 197

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Rachel has a poster of Cheerio!Santana on the wall of her room. Thanks!

* * *

Having been too busy to fully rearrange everything in her home to be suitable for people coming in and invading it before she'd had to leave for school, as well as having barely any time after due to ballet class which she couldn't afford to miss, Rachel still wasn't fast enough to get into her room before Brittany, followed by Quinn and Santana, walked in.

"Drinks?" She started anyway, pitching her voice loudly to hopefully draw all three girls' attention to her before they took in what hung near the closet, eyes darting frantically back and forth, "If you come down to the kitchen with me, you can pick out - "

Quinn cut her off. "Sounds good," the blonde turned, reaching out to grab Santana just before she turned in her perusal towards where Rachel did _not _want her to see, taking Brittany's arm as well, "Come on, girls."

Santana glared at her. "What the hell, Q? We just walked up the stairs. Why we gots to go downstairs again?"

"So you _do _want to be in Berry's bedroom? Snuggle up in her bed or try on her clothes…?"

"What? Hell no!" Pushing ahead of Quinn to force it like it was her idea to leave Rachel's room, Santana swung on her foot. "Well? I'm _thirsty_, already!"

Eyes wide, Rachel nodded sharply. "Yes, yes, of course, I'm so sorry to have made you walk all the way up here first."

"You should be," Brittany monotoned, "My tongue is dry."

Blinking away the mental images that gave her, Rachel tagged along behind the three girls; catching Quinn's eye when she skirted around them to open the refrigerator and prop open the pantry where the room temperature drinks were stored, she flushed, grimaced, and nodded her head.

The blonde, smirking but concealing it behind a carefully placed cough, waggled her fingers in the air. 'You owe me,' she mouthed.

Ignoring her, Rachel, as soon as Santana and Brittany were preoccupied with choosing their brand of mineral water, excused herself. Barreling up the staircase, she jogged into her room, tore the poster of Cheerio Santana down as gently as she could, pushed it into her closet, and took a couple of deep breaths before walking back into the kitchen. "Ready now?" she chirped, smiling widely, doing everything in her power not to look at Santana or Quinn, "I still have those music scores in my bedroom…"


	198. Chapter 198

**A/N: **Prompt from astralpeenor, who asked for some Fapezberry. I don't even know what this is. XD Thanks!

* * *

Rachel took Quinn's hand. "Smile?" she whispered.

Squeezing her fingers, Quinn quirked her lips up. "Easy for you to say," she murmured out of the corner of her mouth, "You're not the one who's already slept with her." She glanced at Rachel. "Or have you?"

"No." Shaking her head, already anticipating the question, Rachel narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "But it's not like you haven't thought about it."

Sighing, Rachel rested her head against the blonde's shoulder. "I may live with the girl," she smiled, lifting her hand to knock on the door of Santana's bedroom again, "But that doesn't mean I let myself... _Truly_... Think about her." Her smile grew affectionate. "Especially since I was already with you."

"I know." Leaning down to press a quick kiss to Rachel's forehead, Quinn retracted when Santana swung her door open.

"I _told _you, Mamí" she snapped, "I don't want – oh. It's you two." Her eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms, glare growing, "What do you want?"

Letting Quinn's hand go but making sure to stroke the back of it with her thumb, Rachel stepped forward. "May we come in?"

"Why?"

Quinn lifted her chin, lips thinning. "San," she murmured, voice coming out more huskily than she'd meant it to; she cleared her throat, "Just let us in. We want to – "

Stepping forward without letting Quinn finish, Rachel reached up, cupped Santana's cheeks, and, with a, "We want to do _this_," pulled her into a harsh, forceful kiss.

Frozen, fingernails digging into Rachel's shoulders, Santana gasped, moaned, and shoved herself closer. "_Fuck_," she hissed, pulling back just enough to take in Quinn's surprised but not angry look, then Rachel's heavy-lidded breathing heavily expression; groaning, she kissed Rachel hungrily again, grunting against her lips, "Guess you two better get your asses _in here_ afore's the fam walks in on something _you'll_ _never _be able to live down."

Laughing sharply, rolling her eyes, Quinn walked forward, shut the door behind them, locked it, and pulled Santana into a kiss of her own. "Talk later?" she offered, sliding her hands up and down Santana's sides. She wasn't going to let her girlfriend take _all_ the initiative!

"Talk later," Rachel agreed, "Feel now."

Already working on getting Quinn's shirt undone and off of her shoulders, her own and Rachel's coming next, Santana didn't bother answering. Instead, giving the two girls her best sultry look while pulling them back towards her bed…

"_Oh_," Quinn sighed.

"_Mmm_," Rachel breathed.

…It was obvious what Santana thought.


	199. Chapter 199

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Berrittana - jealousy. Thanks!

* * *

Sometimes, Rachel lets her insecurities get the best of her. She's known for years before she became part of _SantanaBrittanyRachel_ that Santana and Brittany had had history together that _wasn't _just sex, but when she realized that her shameful feelings were returned by both girls, she'd barely let herself think about how that closeness would translate to both girls opening up and letting her in. Instead, she'd been worrying too much about if she was reading things wrong or right and if she was truly wanted. But as soon as that initial processing passed…

Questions and fears still built up. How could _she _ever compare to the level of intimacy shared between Santana and Brittany? She was the new person. The interloper. Though both Santana and Brittany had assured her she was _wanted_ – _needed_, if she believed what Quinn had muttered drunkenly that one night all of the glee girls had had a big sleepover at Santana's house – she still… She just _couldn't_…

"I can't believe you're just so _happy _to have me here!" she snapped, suddenly, startling both Brittany and Santana sitting across from her, "In… _Interrupting_ the relationship you both have already!"

Santana was the one to speak first. Staring at Rachel, she snapped her gum. "You're saying this now?" she asked calmly but pointedly, "When you've already slept with us?"

"I – "

"Yeah," Brittany chimed in, nodding. Exchanging glances with Santana, she shifted over, settling in next to Rachel's side. Taking her hand, she pulled Rachel closer, now almost face to face as her body rigidly leant against the blonde's, "Do you not want to be with us anymore?"

Rachel looked up at her, hand splaying on Brittany's upper arm. "That's not what I said."

"Sounded like it." Santana scoffed. She rolled her eyes, kicking back the rolling chair she'd been sitting in to sink down on the other side of Rachel, trapping her between them. Her hand settled heavily on Rachel's thigh. "But you know as well as I do that that's not what this is about. 'Cuz this?" She narrowed her eyes, and, taking the time to turn her head to spit her gum out towards the trash can next to the bed, her fingernails scraped along the skin under the hem of Rachel's skirt, "This stinks of your particular brand of _pathetic_ self preservation. You just can't be happy with us, can you?"

"_Hey_ – !"

Brittany cut her off with a deep kiss. "Rache," the blonde murmured, pulling her tongue out of her mouth, "What is this about? You like this, don't you? When I kiss you? When I…" Her hand fell, sliding along, next to Santana's, "When _we _touch you? And not just _in _you." She lowered her head, pressing her lips against Rachel's chest, over her shirt and right breast, "In your heart? Don't you feel us in here?"

Santana gently pushed Brittany into the right area. When Rachel looked at her, sucking in a deep breath from the feel of Brittany's kiss, the other brunette raised an eyebrow. "Is it really so _strange_…" She moved forward and past, nibbling her lips along Rachel's jaw and up to her ear, "To think we don't want you for just sex?" As if antithesis to her actions, she bit down on Rachel's earlobe, "We _want _you. In our lives." She paused. Her voice deepened. "Somehow. Just as you want us."

"I just…" Rachel stuttered out a long, halting sigh. "This… This isn't just sex? I… I can really be part of… _You_? The both of you?" Her hands fluttered in the air. "I'm, I'm not trying to _discount _you, and what you're _saying_, or _have _said, but, I just… I just need to…" She frowned, lips twisting, and her body deflated, "I just need to _know_. Now. Again. Because…" She sagged, dark eyes flitting back and forth between Brittany and Santana, "I really, really want to be more than just…

"I love you," she said plainly, finally giving up, giving in, "Both of you."

Brittany shook her head, paused, and then nodded, Santana nodding along. "We love you too," she promised, and, "We're not Brittana anymore," she pushed, "We're…" Frowning, she cocked her head. "Bri… Brittana…"

"Berry?" Santana smirked. "Or how 'bout…" She laughed. "Pez… Oh my god. Pezberrypie?"

"Where did you come up with _that_?" A laugh busted out of Rachel's mouth before she could stop it, and her hands flew out to circle, fingernails leading, both of her – oh god, this was still real… This was still really really _real_…? – girlfriends' wrists.

Santana's shoulders lifted, and she laughed as well, dropping her head to press her cheek against Rachel's shoulder. "Don't ask," she rolled her eyes, circling her arms around both Rachel and Brittany, leaning in to push Rachel back, down onto the bed, "Because, really. Babe. Don't you think yous gots some making up to do with me n' B?"

Brittany grinned. Pouncing on Rachel as well, she excitedly peppered kisses up and down her face and neck. "Oh _please_," she nuzzled Rachel's neck, hand pushing up, under her sweater, stretching out along her body as a twinkling blue eye winked, "Make it up to me? Us?"

"Yeah," Santana chimed in, her tongue dipping out to run along Rachel's lower lip, stopping her from answering, already knowing what she would have said anyway, "Give us this first and I _swear _you'll find out just how much we _love you _and _want you _too."

Still, Rachel managed to pull away. "You swear?" she asked, eyes lidded, lips swollen.

And, pulling away as well, Brittany and Santana exchanged glances again. "We swear," they smiled, meaning it and more, "Over and over again."


	200. Chapter 200

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; jealous Pezberry while Quinn is in town because of Quinntana sex and slight Faberry crush in high school. Thanks!

Oh! Also, happy 200th Scrap! Wow. That's really all I can say, you know? It's been almost three years! Wow! :D

* * *

Rachel sucked in a deep breath. "Quinn?" she asked, trying to seem unaffected and neutral, "She's going to be here for the weekend?"

"Yeah." Smoothing down the fabric over her breasts as she straightened from her seat, leaning down to pick up her shoulder bag, Santana smiled, tilting her head, "We have the room, don't we?"

_The room is __**not**__ the problem_, Rachel thought. They were still new. She and Santana were still new.

She and Santana were still new while Santana and Quinn and even _Rachel_ and Quinn were not.

"You think that's wise?" Rachel tried again, hands rising, coming up to curl around Santana's shoulders, "Especially since your mom _just _left...?"

Santana's hands cupped her hips, hot and searing even through her sweater. "Mi mamí loved you," she murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Rachel's nose, "Jus' like I knew she would. What? You think she'd approve of Q more?"

Smothering her immediate scoff, Rachel pushed her lips against Santana's, kissing her with as much passion as she could muster. "Of course not," she husked, only pulling back enough so her words could be heard, her lips brushing against Santana's as she spoke, "I gave her the best I could give. I just." She lowered her eyes. "Quinn?"

Shifting forward, Santana kissed her solidly. "Rache," she murmured lowly, stroking Rachel's waist with her thumb, "Are you really so jealous?"

"No."

"Yes, you are." She raised her eyebrow.

Rolling her eyes, smiling faintly, Rachel nodded. "Fine. I am. But can you really blame me?" She pushed back, her hands falling to press against Santana's upper arms. She frowned; she didn't like thinking about this. "You slept with her."

"On the same night you slept with Finn." Nodding, seemingly already having anticipated this reaction, Santana tilted her head, "While you were still in a relationship with Brody, I might add."

"That _was_ – " Rachel's eyes flew up to meet Santana's.

"I know, I know. You had an open relationship. And it's not like _I've _been a saint." Squeezing Rachel's sides, Santana continued, "Rachel. Have I cheated in the past? Yes. Have I cheated on you?"

Rachel sucked her lower lip in her mouth, and she shook her head. "No."

"Damn straight. I haven't. _But_." Shaking her head, Santana drew Rachel back into her, slipping her hands under her sweater to get at her skin directly, "How about you? _You_ are the one who used to have _the _hugest lady boner for Q for _years_."

"But that's _so _over!" Jumping forward, making Santana sway with the force she'd put behind it, Rachel shook her head, fingers contracting around Santana's shoulders, "It's you. It's _all _you."

"And it's _all you_," Santana answered patiently. "Rache. Q's one of my oldest friends. Yes, I slept with her. But she's still _my friend_."

Muttering, "She's _my _friend too," Rachel nodded.

"Exactly! She's _our_ friend. And she needs a place to stay while her dorm gets fumigated." Both of Santana's eyebrows rose this time. "Aren't _you_ the one who offered her a place to stay whenever she'd need it? Besides." Dragging her fingernails up Rachel's waist, Santana leaned in to kiss her solidly. "Babe," she whispered, gently biting down on Rachel's lip, "You're the one who makes me wet. You're the one I want sexin' me up."

Shivering at the sultry whisper but humming in her throat as her girlfriend's arms wrap around her, hands now having pushed her sweater up enough to splay out along her back and just at her bra, Rachel kissed her back. "I love you," she allowed quietly, it equally a question for reaffirmation as it was an apology and simple truth.

Continuing to kiss her, Santana made an asked for sound of affirmation. "I know. Dork." She smiled, "But the jealousy's kinda cute. Just don't overdo it."

Nodding, Rachel laughed when Santana suddenly and expertly undid the clasp of her bra, tangling her hands in her hair. "Your app-a_ppointment_?" she gasped as she pushed up into the other girl.

In answer, Santana slipped off her shoulder bag. "Fuck 'em," she murmured, tugging up Rachel's sweater so she could dip her head to nuzzle against Rachel's breasts before Rachel knew what she was doing, "I's got a girlfriend to bring off."

"Oh." Moaning, now clutching at Santana's neck and shoulder, Rachel didn't protest when Santana swung her around, depositing her down onto the couch before climbing onto her.

No, she knew she'd probably bring this up again later, and no, she knew she wasn't fully over it, but _oh yes_, she arched up into Santana, welcoming her body pressing down into her and her tongue in her mouth, did she know she wanted this physical, overwhelming reminder of how much Santana wanted her!


	201. Chapter 201

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; coffee. Thanks! (This reminds me of my writing for Echoes of the Past, but that's beside the point, really. :D)

* * *

Her coffee was cold.

Too cold to be finished.

Sighing, Santana pushed it away from herself. An hour before, when it'd been piping hot and perfect, she'd been too distracted to enjoy it. Now, just about cried out and more thirsty for water than anything else, it wasn't anything she particularly wanted.

Still… Taking a sip, she sagged, swallowed, and shook her head. No, nothing except further evidence cold coffee wasn't anything she wanted. She pushed it away from herself again.

In another hour, when she was ready to move again, she would throw it away.

Just not now.

Now, it didn't even give her palms something to hold onto.

Breathing in deeply, Santana dropped her head, closing her eyes before the tears could gather enough to become a real nuisance. Again.

For the second time in her life, she was single when it really meant something. To her, to her heart, to the gaping hole in her chest where her heart had used to live.

Oh god.

Santana slammed her forehead into the table, her arms barely stopping herself from hurting herself.

It was just… Rachel's eyes wouldn't leave her alone. Rachel's snapping, cold, hurt eyes when she'd broken up with her. When she'd cried and yelled at her. When she'd told Santana exactly what was wrong with her and them.

When she hadn't listened to anything Santana had said.

Santana sniffled. She looked up.

Her cold coffee might still smell nice, might beckon her, but it wasn't enough.

She pushed against the cup, making it shift on the table.

It might smell nice, but it wasn't…

It would never replace…

Santana sniffled again.

Tears dripped down her cheeks.

It would never be Rachel.


	202. Chapter 202

**A/N: **This was one thing that became another.

* * *

Blinking owlishly, Rachel stares at the two girls across the room. Her drink clutched in her hand, something outrageously alcoholic, she can't decide if she wants to continue drinking or if she wants to slow down enough so the flying her eyes are doing can calm down. It's strange, watching her gaze roll back and forth, side to side.

"Heyy," a loud voice to her left suddenly brays, a dark arm sliding across her shoulders. It's Mercedes, the girl smiling at her.

Rachel smiles back, relieved. "'Cedes?" she cocks her head, hand pressing against Mercedes' waist, "Having fun?"

"Of course!" Flashing white teeth, Mercedes laughs, brandishing her own drink high in the air. "But you? You're, like, just _sitting _there!"

"Hard _not _to do," Rachel rolls her eyes back, nodding, looking once again at Santana and Brittany, expression firming, "When you're being ignored by the people you wish would notice you…"

Mercedes peers at her. She frowns. "What?"

Flicking her eyes towards her again, Rachel smiles as fakely as she can. "Never mind," she shrugs, lifting her drink, clinking it against Mercedes' even though they're both in plastic Solo cups, "I'm still enjoying myself!"

Thankfully easily distracted, the other girl continues smiling. "Good," Mercedes nods, taking a deep drink of her own concoction, "Because if you weren't – if you _weren't_, that'd be, like…" A soft laugh titters from her mouth, "_Sad_."

Suddenly, Pavlovian so, Rachel nods again. She forces a smile. "Like how Puck's a-_alone_?" she gestures overly obviously at the mohawked boy across the room, "He loo-_looks_ like he needs some, well, _company_." Staring at Mercedes, she smiles earnestly.

Tilting her head, the older girl's glazed attention studies the playboy. A faint, dark blush crosses her cheeks "You think…?" she starts.

"Of _course_!" Rachel butts in, cutting her off; dancing in her seat, practically pushing the other girl at him, she smiles widely, "It's not like he's _denied _you! _And_ he's single. So, I say, _go_ for it!"

Weaving away, mumbling to herself, Mercedes throws a drunken hand up in acknowledgment as she finally, slowly, slinks forward. "Thanks, Rache," she giggles, taking a healthy swig of her drink before dropping it into the potted plant to the right of her, "You're _wonderful_.

_"Hey_ Puck," she continues, toddling up to the boy, leaning into his side as he smiles at her, "You're looking… _Fine_."

Purposefully not paying attention to Puck's response, Rachel's attention drifts – decisively – back to Santana. If _only_, she sighs, taking her in.

"You know," a new voice erupts to her right, a heavy hand dropping onto her shoulder, "You're really _not _secretive."

Swallowing her mouthful of vodka and something else alcoholic, Rachel looks up into Sam's green, interrupting eyes. "Excuse me?"

Trouty mouth lips curve up. "Rache," the junior smirks at her, "I know _exactly _what you're feeling here." Motioning across the room, leaning against her side, Sam laughs when Rachel pushes her hand against his shoulder, offering equal pressure to keep him as upright as she's managing to keep herself in control, on Brittany's couch as she is, "Pining, right?"

Rachel's fingernails dig into him. "I…"

Shaking his head, Sam sits and pushes closer, sliding his arm around Rachel's shoulders, pulling her closer into himself. He feels solid and warm, and for a second, Rachel lets herself fall into him.

But, "Rachel," he asserts, nodding again at Santana and Brittany across the room, "Let me help you."

Sighing, Rachel nods, pushing her cheek against his shoulder, leaning even heavier into him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Turning his head, staring down at her, Sam's wide mouth frowns at her. "Rachel," he rolls his eyes, poking her shoulder in turn, hands lively as he flutters them in front of himself, "Don't start that shiii…" He trails off, blinking as her jaw clenches, "…Crap?" Letting his voice become low and not-so light again when she nods, letting him continue, he groans. "Don't start that _crap_. I've seen you. I've…" He shifts, a pointer finger pointing at her, about level with her nose, a crooked grin still on his face, "I know you want her."

Pouting, frowning, Rachel lowers her eyes. She presses her chin back into his shoulder, then sighs. "It's not like she wants me."

"Uh, shut up!" Practically shaking Rachel, Sam smirks at her. "Have that famous confidence you're known for! And. 'Sides." He nods at Santana and Brittany, stroking her shoulder up and down, "Even if that doesn't work out, you've always got me."

Snorting, laughing, Rachel sighs and curves into him. "You're sweet," she murmurs, a reluctant smile on her lips.

"That's me." Sam squeezes her, then pokes her side. "But, c'mon! At least go over there and draw her into conversation. Flirt with her. Smile. _Make_ her see you."

"She can see me from here."

"_Rachel_."

Grumbling but giving in, Rachel stands after dropping her head and shaking it. "I'm telling you this won't work out well."

Sam puffs his cheeks out at her. "Don't care."

Pointing at him, Rachel can't help but smile broadly anyway. "You," she turns away from him, finishing her drink and walking up confidently to where Santana and Brittany are, "Are _so _dead."

"Who's dead?" Tilting her head, Brittany turns towards Rachel, "Hmm?"

Sighing heavily, Santana crosses her arms. "What are _you _doing here?"

"No one. And. At this party or here, with you?" Forcing a wide smile on her face, Rachel bobs her head, trying to seem as if she's not as awkward walking up to them as she feels. Unbidden, a blush still settles over her cheeks.

Opening her mouth, Santana stares at her. Still, before she says anything, Brittany does. "You having fun?" the blonde asks.

"Oh yes." Rachel raises her empty drink, "How could I not?" It's a little sarcastic, but Brittany doesn't catch it; instead, she frowns at the emptiness of the cup and plucks it from Rachel's grip, "No, no, you need more. I'll get it for you!"

And Brittany is suddenly gone.

Rachel stares at her retreating back. "But you don't even…!" she lowers her voice, "…Know what I want."

"Yeah, like she'd even listen to you anyway." Shaking her head, Santana rolls her eyes, "Great. I'm stuck here with _you_."

Raising her gaze, Rachel meets the other girl's eyes boldly. "What's keeping _you_ here with _me_?" she challenges, an eyebrow raising as she cocks her hip out. She makes sure to show what she calls her 'seductive expression number three' on her face.

Santana laughs. Taking another sip of her drink, she unerringly sets it aside, on top of the TV to her right. Combing back her bangs from her face with her hand, she leans down to close the two inch difference between them even with the heels both are wearing.

Rachel swallows. Gathering herself, she forces herself to keep her chin up, not giving anything.

"Oh Berry," Santana whispers, her fingers settling along Rachel's hip, "Don't pretend you haven't been staring at me for most of this party."

Not knowing how she's still standing, her vision like her equilibrium: unsteady, bobbing up and down, Rachel still doesn't back away. She meets Santana's eyes as best as she can. Her lips part. "And if I have been?"

Santana's eyebrow rises. Her mouth quirks up. Her grip tightening around Rachel's waist, she settles her other arm on the wall, pushing Rachel back against it.

Even with her body inches away from hers, Rachel can still feel her. It's hot and electric, heart poundingly so.

"If you have been?" Santana parrots.

Wanting to experience this – the _this_ that's making her heart hammer in her chest and her head grow faint with the alcohol only serving to bolster her, Rachel knows what she needs to do. What time it is.

It's time for what Sam had told her to have – confidence.

So: "A better question," Rachel licks her lips, breathing in quickly and shallowly while still inhaling enough so her chest brushes along Santana's, straightening herself and steadying herself on her feet so she has more of a presence, staring up at Santana pointedly, "Maybe…" Her hands wrap around Santana's waist, and she doesn't let her move back, "Is _why _you noticed me looking in the first place?"


	203. Chapter 203

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; crazy pregnant hormones! Thanks!

* * *

"I'm going to die," Rachel announced as soon as Kurt opened the door to his and Adam's apartment, "That, or kill myself."

Stepping aside to let her in, Kurt rolled his eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit too much dramatic?"

"Hah!" Laughing dryly and shrugging off her jacket, hanging it up onto the coat rack provided, Rachel turned to him. "You're not the one who has to deal with _her_!"

"And by her you mean Santana."

"Who else would I mean?" Walking further into his apartment, Rachel made her way directly towards his kitchen, "You still have that high-end alcohol I got you?"

Kurt blew air out of his mouth and cheeks. "That won't _really_ help you, you know," he followed after her, "And, really, how happy will Santana be once she finds out I let you drink?"

"Especially without her," Adam added, coming in from his study in the back of the apartment, "Hi, Rachel."

"Adam." Throwing up her hand, Rachel ignored the rest of what the two men had said, already having retrieved the vodka from its home in their freezer; she made a face, "I'm not going to have to drink this straight, right?"

Kurt looked at Adam, shaking his head, but, letting out a giant, judging sigh, opened his refrigerator to retrieve a container of orange juice. "_You_," he pointed her towards the breakfast bar, waiting until she'd sat down and, accepting the three glasses Adam set down in front of him and taken the vodka from her, he poured a healthy – yet _manageable_ – amount in each glass, "Sit. And. Only one glass!"

"Should be enough." Rachel stared at the mixed drink once Kurt had set a glass in front of her, sliding into the stool next to her "I don't... I have to go home soon anyway."

Taking a sip of his drink, Adam took the last free seat next to her, "She having cravings yet?"

"And _how_." Rachel sighed even as a smile came, unbidden, to her lips. "I mean, it helps that she knows _exactly_ what she wants, but it's how _often_! And her _mood swings_! You thought _I_ was bad? Hah!"

Kurt, having taken notice of the bags under her eyes, cooed supportively, "Don't worry. You're still beautiful."

Rachel glared at him. "Yeah. Thanks." Turning her back to him, she looked at Adam, "How can I convince you to come over and be our gopher for the foreseeable future?"

His eyes widening, Adam glanced at Kurt, Rachel, back at Kurt, then again at Rachel before splintering off. "Uh, I'm sorry," he started, trying to sound calm and in control, "But I'm just too busy. _Kurt_, though – "

"Leave me out of this!" Kurt waved his finger in the air, "You _know_ I have that _client _– "

"_Okay_!" Raising her hands, Rachel cut them off, "I understand. I have to..." She took a large sip, almost coughing as the burn met her throat again, having gotten out of practice with Santana's pregnancy, "Suck it up."

"...And be the wife you vowed to be," Adam muttered.

Kurt snapped his eyes back at his partner. "_Adam_ - !" he hissed, but Rachel cut him off.

"No!" she sat up straight. Shocked, she repeated wonderingly, "No. Wait. He's... He's right." Looking down, her mouth curved up, and her shoulder's firmed. "No!" Her whole countenance erupted into certainty, and, snapping her head up, her eyes blazed, "He's right! _In sickness and health_!" She sounded scandalized, "How could I have _forgotten_...?"

Kurt watched her. "Rachel...?"

But Rachel didn't answer him. Instead, she slammed her glass down after throwing the rest of it back, shoving herself to her feet. "Thank you!" she called over her shoulder, hot-footing it out of the kitchen and scooping up her jacket, barely pausing to put it on.

Looking towards where she'd disappeared to, neither Adam nor Kurt were surprised when, "Next Christmas, I _so _owe you, Adam!" wafted back to them, buoyed by the air displaced by their front door opening and closing behind her.

"Well." Adam sipped his drink, smiling into his glass, "That didn't take a lot."

"Tchh." Taking his own sip, Kurt looked at him. His own smile stayed even as he cradled his drink in his hands, "Did you really expect it to?"

Laughing, Adam stood, walked forward, and, using the counter as an easy place to place his weight, "Now what do _you_ think?" gave Kurt the rest of his answer in the form of a deep, passionate kiss.


	204. Chapter 204

Rachel had been lingering at the edges of Puck's party, keeping herself occupied with her Solo cup of punch and vodka, taking small sips just often enough to keep anyone from telling her she was doing it wrong. Bopping her head to the music and swaying her body seemed to help, too, so she'd dedicated her night to doing so; anything except making anyone talk to her.

Her New Year's resolution, after all, being that she was determined not to be a burden on anyone, in any way. Finn had helped give her the idea, and after observing how her forced inclusion into her friend's lives had usually gone, she'd finally conceded. She may be the powerhouse singer in glee club, but that didn't mean anything when faced with how lonely that reality was when she forced it.

So, with that party being the first one after January 1st, she was determined to keep her resolution. Which meant, she sighed, bending out of the way of the stream in and out of Puck's kitchen, offering smiles only when someone met her gaze, and dipping her head only when they kept eye contact, that she was the perfect reactionary persona non grata.

However, it hadn't been half the party before Santana had cornered her. "Hey, Berry," the girl'd narrowed her eyes at her, raising a hand to poke against her sternum as she swayed next to the kitchen entrance, "What the hell are you doing?"

Rachel blinked at her. "What?"

Her lips thinning, Santana continued glaring at her. "You heard me," she pushed, crossing her arms as the thick liquid in her own cup sloshed against her bare arm, though she didn't seem to notice, "Why aren't you being, like, your normal _annoying_ self?"

Oh. Sighing, Rachel rolled her eyes, shuffling her shoulders a second later. "If you must know," she sniffed, moving farther into the corner as Quinn skirted around the two, glaring, "I'm fulfilling my New Year's resolution."

"Right, and that entails being a non-entity." Propping her hand on her hip, sneering, Santana leaned forward, "Who the hell _are you_?

"Like," she continued, words dripping disdain, "This is _so_ beyond pathetic I don't know how to respond."

"Then don't," Rachel sniffed; she stepped back, waving her cup towards Puck's kitchen, "And leave me be."

Santana's eyes rolled violently, the girl focusing her harsh stare at her a second later. "You fricken' trying to go all Shakespeare on me?" she scoffed, "Who the hell do you think you _are_?"

Opening her mouth, Rachel stilled her tongue. "No one," she finally sighed, "So can you – please – just let me sway in peace?"

Dark eyes studied her as Santana's gaze narrowed. "Alright, _Barbra_," she drew herself up straight, pushing her cup at Rachel as her pointer finger jutted at her and losing even more of her drink, "This is the stupidest shit that you have ever…" Her eyes unfocused, "Shat." Making Rachel dodge her cup when she suddenly lunged, a squawk left her mouth when the girl clamped her free, drink-free hand, around her forearm. "Nuh-uh," she grunted, pulling Rachel away and down the hallway to the right of where Rachel had stationed herself, pushed open the bathroom door with no respect for the freshman unlucky enough to not have locked the door, half-naked and stumbling when she kicked him out without waiting for him to finish covering himself, dropped the lid of the toilet, flushed, and shoved Rachel down onto it, "You's an' me're gonna have some words."

"Why do I feel like that's a thing to fear?" Rachel eyed the other girl, setting her cup down onto the side of the bathtub so she could rub her fingers over where Santana had been holding her. It didn't hurt, and probably wouldn't bruise, but it still hadn't been comfortable.

"'Cuz it normally is, Berry Stupid." Santana rolled her eyes. Taking a long draught of her drink, she stared at Rachel. "_Talk_."

"About _what_?"

Practically slamming her cup down onto the sink, Santana hunkered over Rachel, propping herself slightly unsteadily against the toilet tank. "This isn't _you_," she hissed.

Rachel gritted her teeth. "Why do you care?"

"Oh my _god_." Rocking back, Santana dropped, resting herself on her heels. Tipping, finally just sinking to the ground and leaning herself back against the wall, she threw her hands into the air. "I _hate _fakeness, okay?"

Loud, braying laugher left Rachel's mouth before she could stop it. "_You_?" she burst out, "Hating _fakeness_?"

Santana's glare was hotter than molten lava.

Choking, Rachel continued laughing.

Growling, Santana threw her hands up, stood up and tottered over to her drink, and threw the small amount of it back. "_No_," she spat, poking her finger at Rachel, "You Jewish Florence Nightingale." Moving her head back, shaking it and fixing Rachel in place with her stare, she smirked her lips up, "You're not gonna get out of this."

"That reference makes no sense," Rachel shook her head as well, "I am not nor am ever planning to be a nurse."

"_Fuckin' A_, Berry!" Santana spat, throwing her empty plastic cup at Rachel, seemingly enjoying watching it bounce off her shoulder and onto the bathroom floor, "You're hopeless. Completely hopeless. What? You have me, _bothering _to pay attention to you, and yet – and _yet_ - !" She tossed her hands into the air, scoffing loudly, "I don't even know why I bother." Her fingers fluttered in the air. "No, I don't know why I bother."

Rachel tilted her head. "I don't know why you bothered either," she answered truthfully, resting her arms on her knees, "Unless…" She widened her eyes and laughed, suddenly the most confident she'd been that whole night, "You didn't want to deal with the rest of the people at this party, either, did you?"

Narrowing her eyes, Santana didn't answer, instead snatching Rachel's drink from the bathtub and downing it like she'd done her own drink. "Shut up," she sniped.

But Rachel wasn't going to let it go. "_No_," she pressed, a grin lightening up her face, "You only came up to me because _I _wasn't talking to anyone else, right? You only stole me away because _I_ was away, right?" When Santana's cup whapped against her shoulder and bounced off onto the floor as well, she wasn't surprised in the least. "No," she repeated, her grin growing into a proper smile, "You wanted to _believe _you weren't caring about anyone else, and the best way to _do _that…" She smirked as wide as she could that she could see the bathroom light reflecting off of her teeth, "Was to '_busy_' yourself…" She bothered to make bunny ears, "With someone _not _involved with anything or _anyon_e else, am I right?"

Santana's eyes darkened. "Shut up. _Shut_. _Up_."

But Rachel didn't listen. "This isn't even _about _me."

"Shut _up_."

"This is about _you_!" Rachel pointed at Santana, secure enough not to care she was playing with fire, "You and your _insecurities _– "

Santana pitched forward, hands coming up to grasp either side of Rachel's arms, bringing her almost chest to chest as their dark eyes met each other's, her much more liquored breath puffing into Rachel's, "Shut _up_!"

But Rachel didn't stop.

And as Santana pulled her closer, staring into her eyes and meeting her glare for glare, huff to huff, sneer melting into a searching, surprised expression, neither did she.


	205. Chapter 205

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon, who asked for an angsty one-shot of Pezberry in high school. Thanks!

* * *

Each press of the piano keys rang through Santana's head. The third time Rachel restarted the score to her latest project, Santana groaned, pressing her hand above her sunglasses because she didn't want to get them dirty, and snapped out harshly, "_Berry_. Shut. The fuck. _Up_."

Rachel paused. "I wasn't in the process of speaking, Santana," she replied stiffly.

Her shoulders were rigid under her god-awful sweater, and Santana rolled her eyes. "You know damn well what I was talking about."

Sighing, Rachel bowed her head. "You wouldn't have any problem if you weren't hungover like you _always _are. It's Saturday morning, not _Suffer from Underage Drinking_ morning."

Santana ground her teeth together. "It's also not _Loving Having to Be with the Hobbit _morning, either, but do you hear me saying _that_?"

A sour note sounded as Rachel's hand slipped. The girl breathed in deeply. "It hasn't been that in a while. And yes. I _do _hear you say that. Every weekend we're forced to be here." She scoffed, swiveling around on the piano bench so she could point at Santana, "You know I could be studying with Madame Helga right now? Doing something worthwhile. Doing something like studying for my upcoming recital instead of being _stuck,_ here, with _you_!""

Santana pretended like she was studying her nails, spreading her fingers out as she angled her head down. "She's not dead?"

"No. She's not. In fact, like it'll be any good telling you this, but she still asks after you."

Her lips twitching, Santana shrugged nonchalantly. She raised eyes hidden behind her sunglasses to look at Rachel. "So?"

Staring at her, Rachel blinked, looked up, and turned back to the piano. Her fingers curled on the keys again. "So nothing apparently."

Shifting in her seat, Santana frowned at the back of the other girl. "You better not start playing again."

Rachel didn't physically react. "Or?"

"Or - "

But Santana's response got cut off with the entrance of Principal Figgins. Holding out two pairs of gloves and buckets and stiff bristled brushes and ordering the two girls to follow him to the front of the school where they were directed to remove the newest tagging on the main doors, the latest in the list of menial tasks given to them since they'd been awarded detention for causing a public disturbance the month before, he left them with his usual warning that he would know if they slacked off.

Glancing at Rachel, who glared back at her, Santana sighed, grumbled, and snapped to the smaller girl that she better start getting the paint on the doors ready while she went off to find the water and soap. Turning to do so, without waiting for any response and planning on ignoring it if it had come anyway, she walked off with the buckets swinging from her hand.

After all, Santana sighed only when she was away from Rachel's line of sight, highly aware of how red her eyes were under her sunglasses and how strongly her headache pounded in her forehead, she didn't want to give herself the chance to let herself think or blurt out that it was the least she could do to shoulder this small bit of more work.

Because giving in and doing so, admitting that, Santana continued thinking as she made for the nearest bathroom, her fingernails cutting into her palm and her hand tightening around the bucket handles, would mean that she would have to take ultimate blame for being the one to make Rachel confront her and break up with her as publicly as possible because of…

Santana hated herself.

…the worst reason possible.


	206. Chapter 206

Santana found Rachel in Between the Sheets, flipping through the sheet music for the piano score of Funny Girl. "Shouldn't you already have that?" Santana asked from next to her, using a nearby piano as a place to lean against.

Her head coming up, slightly too long bangs sliding in front of her right eye, Rachel blinked, gave her a blank look, and turned back to the sheet music. Pushing her hair back, she started flipping through the booklet again. "I prefer to have more than one copy in the off-chance that while within a particularly emotional performance, something happens to the copy I am using."

Santana pursed her lips. "Personal experience, huh?"

Rachel allowed a grin to twitch her lips up. "Yes."

"I'm not surprised." Pushing herself off of the piano, Santana stalked around so she was leaning across the sheet music in front of her. She studied Rachel silently.

Having gone back to what she was doing, using her fingers to push back some of her too long bangs behind her ear again, Rachel didn't bother looking at her. She knew Santana couldn't stay quiet for too long.

Indeed, "Berry."

"Yes?"

"You're always talking about glee altruism and brotherhood-sisterhood blah blah blah, right?"

Rachel sighed and looked up. "Yes?" She almost felt like a parrot or mockingbird.

"Good. Then you're going to help me." Straightening, shaking her hair out, Santana settled her hand on her hip. "You're last."

Finally finding what she had been looking for, Rachel pulled the Funny Girl score out; sliding it in between her arm and chest, she turned to fully face Santana, motioning her towards the piano in the corner. "Last what?"

But, "You're going to play here?" Santana asked instead, sounding honestly curious.

"And sing here." Rachel nodded. Setting the sheet music down, she pulled out the piano bench. "I thought that would have been obvious. I have a standing invitation from the owners." Settling her fingers onto the keys, she watched Santana trying to decide if she wanted to stay or not, and then, decision made, trying to decide if she wanted to sit down next to her or not. "I don't bite, you know," she said.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like I'd let you if you tried to anyway," she rejoined, and sat down regardless of her waffling disdain. "Well?" she inclined her head, raising her eyebrows when Rachel continued to watch her instead of starting to play, flicking her hand out, "Sing."

Curling her fingers on the piano keys, Rachel studied the girl next to her. "Only if," she bowed her head, smiling fully now, "You tell me what I'm apparently 'last' for."

Santana's teeth flashed. "Not knowing something that has to do with drives you crazy, doesn't it?"

Setting her jaw, Rachel turned back, fully, to the piano. "It's not like it's a ridiculous request," she sniffed, the corners of her lips facing Santana lifting, "So?"

Leaning in, Santana pinched two fingers around the corner of the sheet music, a loud, amused laugh leaving her when Rachel moved to slap her hand against the booklet, slamming it against the piano before she could pluck it away. "You should show your angry face more often," she offered teasingly, still smirking, "It's strangely not as completely off putting as the rest of you normally is."

"Santana." Huffing through her teeth, Rachel slowly but surely pulled the sheet music away from her, "I'm already regretting inviting you to stay. What is it you wanted?"

"You know, depending on if you decide that being a _wimp _and refusing just because you're _you_, it could turn out to be a bit more complicated than it really _ever_ has to be. So." Placing her hand onto the piano bench, between their legs, Santana stared at her. "Berry. I'm going to explain you a thing."

Rachel eyed her again. "Yes?"

Moving in closer again, Santana's eyes dipped down to look at Rachel's lips before looking back up again. Her lips barely quirked up. "Out of all the glee club…" Her tongue swiped across her lower lip, "Out of the rest of the _bearable _high school…"

Rachel frowned at her. Only sheer determination kept her from bending backwards, away from the girl bearing down on her. "_Yes_?"

Stopping only just before her nose brushed against Rachel's, Santana tilted her head, studying Rachel's eyes. "You're the only one I haven't kissed. And since I have a…" her eyebrow rose, "_Burning desire_, if you will, to collect all the names on the list before I graduate…" Her mouth split into another wide smirk.

Rachel swallowed. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes closed. "…I see," she looked back at the piano keys, lips pressing together before relaxing again even as she breathed in deeply, "Thank you for trusting in me enough to be able to see between the lines. And, though I admit to having just said that, I can't believe I'm saying what I'm about to say next, but, let me sing, and…" She glanced at Santana, shaking her head at herself, "We'll see."

Looking completely satisfied anyway, Santana pulled back. "Like you'll turn Auntie 'Tana down. So," she grinned, calmly but purposefully placing her hand on Rachel's thigh, making the other girl jerk and shiver before she thought to rein in her reaction, shrugging Santana's hand off of her as her fingers resettled onto the piano keys, splaying out to the correct positions to start the beginning chords to Don't Rain on My Parade, "What are you waiting for? _Sing_."


	207. Chapter 207

When Rachel found out that Quinn had cheated on her with Santana, she spent the first two hours in angry hurt, the next two in devastated depression, and the next two in a fugue state that bordered on forced denial. After the next two, she called Santana.

"I hear," she clipped out, barely waiting for the brunette to pick up, "That you are in the habit of breaking up relationships."

Santana laughed. "You're just a sore loser because you can't keep your girlfriend interested enough that she won't stray."

Biting back a retort, Rachel closed her eyes. "Be that as it may," she forced out, "I have want of your services. You. Me. My house in twenty minutes. Will you be there?"

Hmming, Santana lilted, "You won't be annoying and call me later?"

"I won't."

"Then I'll be there."

Rachel hung up. Staring at her phone, her fingernails dug in the case when the screen cleared to show the picture of Quinn she had as her background. Making herself set it down without throwing it against the wall, face down with the bedazzled decorations twinkling in the light from her lamp, she covered her eyes when tears started falling again. "You can do this," she told herself lowly, voice breaking, "Make it even. You can."

Eighteen minutes later, Rachel's doorbell rang. Walking stately from her room, chin up and eyes bright, no hint of the tears she'd been sobbing for the past eight hours, she swung the door open.

Beautiful and proud, Santana didn't wait to be invited in to walk in with her arms held lazily behind her back. "Well," she turned on her toe, lips spread in a wide smirk, "We going to do this or what?"

Staring at her, Rachel nodded. "Right." She gestured towards the staircase that led up to her room, "That way. Do you – do you need anything first?"

"Alcohol's always good," Santana mused, studying the walls as she walked past, in the direction Rachel had gestured, "And heaven knows I'll need _something _to get past the horror of touching a hobbit like you."

Rachel bit back her instant response. "I know where the wine is," she offered instead, "I'll get that. My dads won't miss that. You, I-I'll join you in my bedroom."

Catching Rachel's wrist as she turned to head to the kitchen, Santana pulled her close, her presence hot and stifling as her lips brushed along Rachel's cheek, voice lowering, "Don't make me wait too long. There's only _so much _time I can spend in complete _terribleness _that your bedroom's going to be."

Rachel's stomach flipped. "I won't," she muttered, avoiding Santana's gaze, fingers curling around her arm to keep herself balanced before taking a step back, barely taking the time to watch Santana start ascending the stairs before turning to hurry into the kitchen as tears once again threatened, "I really can't afford to."


	208. Chapter 208

**A/N: **For comfortablyobsessed (which is like the most awesome url!), who asked for Pezberry, NY, where Rachel is trying to pluck up the courage to do something about her crush on Santana. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel's almost filled two complete notebooks. Little ones, more commonly used by journalists when they're jotting down notes in the movies, but the sentiment is still the same. She's sitting at her desk she'd had her dads ship from Ohio, supporting her head in her hands with her elbows on the desktop as she stares down at the filled pads. Her forgotten pen is hanging awkwardly from her fingers while her teeth worry her lower lip, her eyebrows furrowed, dark should-get-them-trimmed-soon bangs hanging over her eyes.

She can't believe she's almost filled two complete notebooks.

What she should do, she thinks, right hand wavering minutely, the pen slightly bobbing with her motion, is sweep these notebooks off of the desk, straight into her wastebasket. Then, as she piles other discarded combustibles on top, she'll go into the kitchen and pick up the latest bottle of cooking wine, as well as the matches, and send her private thoughts into an empty but hopefully satisfying death courtesy of flame.

But, no. She mentally shakes her head. With her luck, she'd set the whole loft on fire. She doesn't want to do that.

So. Finally letting her left hand drop down, slapping against the surface of the desk, Rachel's stomach flips as her fingers slowly reach over to flip the closer notebook open.

_not like she doesn't know that she's doing it. It would be very anti-Santana if it were truly on accident. I don't believe it for one_

She flips a couple more pages.

_spend time getting to know those lips of hers_

Rachel slams the notebook closed. If she were being completely honest, she doesn't know why she's bothering to read over these again. She knows what they say.

Musings and rants and complaints about her very inconvenient attraction to her very feminine roommate. Her very feminine _female _roommate.

The one who had seemingly hated her for years.

The one she'd thought she'd continue hating for years to come.

The one –

A darker hand than hers suddenly appears in her line of sight, a trim presence pressing against Rachel's shoulder at the same moment the first of the two notebooks gets plucked up into the earlier mentioned hand. Finely filed nails easily slip under the cover, and, with a horror that fills her with cold, spreading fear, Rachel watches as Santana rests her hip against her desk, opening the notebook with a smirked, "What's this? 'Secrets of a Former Member of the Hobbit Nation'?"

"No," Rachel jerks, trying to grab Santana's arm before she reads what's written there, "Santana, _please_ – "

But Santana's lips, the ones Rachel had spent countless small pages describing and daydreaming about, part as Rachel's very feminine female roommate starts reading aloud, "'I can't believe that I, Rachel Barbra Berry, Broadway-bound ingénue with nothing to lose, has, indeed, found something that makes me feel completely unprepared. I don't think I have to go into detail as this is only for my eyes, but, suffice to say, to perhaps remind myself years in the future after, hopefully, this infatuation goes away – '_Jesus_, Berry." Santana interrupts herself, shaking her head, "But do you write as terribly as you speak – 'I am afflicted with the worst of unrequited hopefully passing fancies: that of my roommate _San_…'" Santana's voice abruptly cuts off within mid-reading of her name, and Rachel can't even breathe to alleviate herself of the tension radiating out of her body.

Her desk creaks, and that's only how she knows Santana's moving; snapping her eyes open as a rush of air batters against her cheek, what she first sees is the green of the notebook held rigidly in front of her face, and, practically on impulse, she pushes back so her desk chair rolls backwards, banging against her bed.

But, "What the hell is this?" Santana's voice is low and high at the same time, and her hand is now pressing against the back of Rachel's chair, over her shoulder, making Rachel feel like she's cornered, her other still holding the notebook up.

Rachel straightens her back. She can fake this. "I asked you not to read that."

Santana scoffs, and the notebook falls to bounce against Rachel's thigh, sliding down between her legs and finishing by slipping off the chair seat, landing askew on the stone floor. "That's not an answer," Santana continues after watching the descent of the notebook, looking back up to meet Rachel's gaze, eyes sharp and darker.

"It's…" Rachel wets her lower lip. She's not sure she understands what Santana's expression is telling her. Her heart spasms. "It's all I've got. I don't – "

But Santana's face is so close to hers, Rachel can't do anything but recoil, feeling her pulse jump in her throat. She can't read this. She wishes she could read this.

Because if she could read this, she'd know what to do.

But as it is…

As it stands…

Please God, she thinks, staring into Santana's eyes, heart fluttering and body inhaling, trying to predict what each motion Santana makes means, tell me if I should lean in or laugh the whole thing off.

Please.

Her breath hitches.

Please.

_Please_.


	209. Chapter 209

**A/N: **After receiving this ask box fic on tumblr from an anon: '"You do know, she is a fictional character and an animated nonetheless?" "Yes, I know that Rachel." "So why do we have to watch that movie again?" "Because Elsa is hot. And I never thought I'd witness the day when Rachel Berry doesn't want to see a disney musical again.", along with my response of: We all know it's because even though she knows it's ridiculous, Rachel just can't shake the feeling that she has to compete with Elsa for Santana's attention, I got this prompt from pauladeroma: 'Now I'm imagining Pezberry visiting Disney World and Rachel having a glare match with Elsa (more on Rachel's side) over Santana.' Thanks!

* * *

Santana is a beautiful woman. Rachel has known this for years, though, to be completely honest, Santana's beauty had only grown in her eyes after she fell in love with her. Instead of being effortlessly sexy and hot, suddenly Santana had become gorgeous and heart-stopping, Rachel's conviction of that being true made even more clear whenever she watched her in the early morning hours - something she doesn't stop even on vacation. Something like what she had done that morning.

"Yes," Rachel nods, slowly, trying her best to still pay attention to the actor playing Anna, who had just nicely asked her if she was enjoying the park, "This is actually our first day on a three-day stay..." Had the Elsa woman just _winked _at Santana? "I'm sorry," she breathes in deeply, tugging on Santana's hand to try and get her attention, "Excuse me for a second?"

"Of course," Anna smiles almost conspiratorially, crossing her arms behind her back, "Enjoy your stay."

Rachel shoots her a quick smile, "Thanks," and turns completely to Santana's side. "Hun?" she asks, as if she has to make it obvious what her and Santana's relationship is, "Ready to take the picture and move on?" She does her best to make Elsa's gaze move to her.

"Already?" Surprised, Santana shoots her a quick smile, tinged with a pout, squeezing her hand, "Is it that busy?"

Rachel gives her a fake smile. "Yes, it's _that_ busy." She meets Elsa's cool blue eyes squarely, plastering herself to Santana's side, "And I'm sure these _fine_ women have _plenty_ of people to meet."

After the attendant had taken their picture, Elsa near Santana's side, flirtily pressing against her, Anna on Rachel's right, and Rachel had gotten in two more glares, her fingernails stabbing unconsciously into Santana's palm, it was all she could do not to turn on her heel and confront the Ice Queen _Bitch_ who, annoyingly, had seemed as interested as Santana had been excited to meet her.

Outside the gazebo, looking over the picture on their digital camera with her, Santana hums. "You know," she smiles, seemingly satisfied as she stashes the camera back into her purse, pulling out her phone a second later to change the picture taken on that to her wallpaper, "You're adorable when you're jealous."

Rachel starts. "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," she sniffs.

Laughing, Santana tugs Rachel around, pulling her into her arms. Pressing her lips against Rachel's, she lightly pinches her side. "Just because I love the movie and think Elsa is hot," she rubs her nose against Rachel's, "Doesn't mean I have _any _interest in anyone - or any _Elsa_ - who is _not _you."

Grumbling, blushing, Rachel kisses Santana back.

Santana pulls back. Her lips quirk up, and, laughing, kissing Rachel again, it's obvious she's not surprised when Rachel scowls and slaps her shoulder after she adds, "Even if that particular Elsa _also _had a rack to die for."


	210. Chapter 210

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Pezberry's first big fight with Rachel being jealous and making a big quarrel in front of the gleeks, but with a happy ending, please. Thanks!

* * *

Santana knew the instant she'd crossed the line, at least according to her girlfriend. Rachel's body became rigid, sharp, her fingernails like molten pokers as they bit into her hand. "Well," the younger girl said shortly, leadingly as the opposing team's head cheerleader from the game earlier that day walked away, "That was... Something."

"Who cares?" Santana tried to blow it off, shaking her hand from Rachel's grip; turning so she could slide her hands onto Rachel's hips, looking at her, she raised her eyebrows, "All she did was compliment me on the Cheerio's routines."

"_Right_." Closing her eyes, Rachel crossed her arms, the muscle in her jaw flexing as she breathed in deeply through her nose, "I believe that as much as I believe Lady Gaga and Beyoncé have no business continuing to make music. _Santana_. She practically _disrobed_ you in front of me!"

Santana rolled her eyes. "So what if she did?" she asked, leaning in, pushing their noses together and blowing her breath across Rachel's lips, "Did I respond to her?"

"_Yes_!" Rachel snapped, pushing her away with her hands on Santana's shoulders. Backing up a couple of steps, she stared at Santana, her eyes growing wide and hard. Hurt. "I was standing right _next_ to you, and you barely - you barely acted like I was there!"

Scoffing, Santana pulled her hands back, placing them onto her own hips. "Are you serious right now?" she asked, more like accused, "You're being ridiculous and jealous, Rachel. I was speaking to her Cheer Captain. To. Cheer Captain."

"And I don't. Believe. That," Rachel enunciated back to her, mimicking her. Taking a couple of more steps back when Santana stepped towards her, she lifted her chin, voice trembling, "You... You flirted back."

"I fucking did _not_!"

"_Yes_, you did!" Her voice rising, Rachel cast her gaze around, referencing the rest of the glee club she had managed to convince to come and cheer for Santana and her cheer squad, the Cheerios, "Ask them. _They'd_ agree with me!"

_Oh my_ _god_. Santana stared at Rachel. _Are you fucking serious_? Spinning around, on her heel, Santana snapped at the first few persons she saw, this time being Artie and Tina. "Did I flirt back?" she pressed flatly, glaring at them, "Well?"

Artie and Tina glanced at each other. "Uhm..." Artie cleared his throat, "You see..."

And, "_Well_..." Tina added, hands worrying the waist of her dress, "Please don't make me answer you!"

_What_? Turning her head, meeting Rachel's dark, condemning gaze, Santana growled and turned to Puck and Sam. "_You_?" she snapped.

Both boys held up their hands. "It could go... Either way..." Sam whispered out, Puck nodding in lieu of saying anything.

Even so, still, before Santana could really take in what the two boys'd been saying, Quinn rolled her eyes, snapping out, "Oh my _god. _S. You were _fine_."

Like that managed to make Santana feel better. Shaking her head, rolling her eyes and advancing on Rachel again, Santana pulled her into her arms. "Whatever you think I was doing," she grumbled, voice deepening, "All I want is _you_." She pressed her lips into the side of Rachel's head, moving down her cheek and finding her lips, "_You_. Not some other cheerleader. _You_."

Breathing in, Rachel slowly, hesitantly, allowed herself to relax in Santana's embrace. "I..." she started, tentatively wrapping her arms around Santana's sides and back, "But you have so much more in _common_."

"_That's _what this's about?" Laughing, disbelieving, Santana squeezed Rachel's sides, "Yeah, like _that'd_ be interesting. _Really_? Rachel. Rache. We're good." She moved back, looking squarely at Rachel, making sure she was looking at her, "You 'n me. You're all I want." She kissed Rachel's nose, smirking at her, "You're everything. So _shut up_ and _believe_, already, that you're _more than enough _to handle me! Jesus!"


	211. Chapter 211

**A/N: **For Pezberry Week Day Two: Reacquainting After Years Apart. Initially I had wanted to do one where it was Rachel instead of Santana who left, but this came out instead. I'm sorry.

* * *

When they met again in the hospital waiting room, Rachel slapped her. It had been four years without word, only a worried and cracked-voice message passed through her parents enough to make her surface. "You shouldn't even be here," Rachel got out coarsely, voice filled with cold fury, "Except for the fact she was once your daughter, too."

"How..." Santana swallowed. "How is she?"

Rachel's face crumpled, the hands coming up to cover her face not fast enough to hide her pure misery. Silent sobs shook her body.

Staring at her, Santana's face drained of color. She blinked. Sagged, and then took a trembling step forward. Pulling her ex-wife into a hard, tight hug, she didn't say anything when, dissolving into harder sobs, Rachel clung to her.


	212. Chapter 212

**A/N: **Prompt from lightbluenymphadora; After the third incident, Santana decided that she needed to come up with a twelve step program to get Rachel away from peanut butter... Thanks! Also, if you look it up, peanut butter overdosing is apparently a real thing.

* * *

"No."

"No?" Rachel frowned. "What do you mean, no?"

"It means _no_." Reaching forward, prying the jar of peanut butter out of Rachel's hands, Santana pushed both the girl and the shopping cart out of the way to deposit it back onto the shelf. "We've talked about this," she continued as she turned around, staring pointedly at Rachel, "No. More. _Peanut. Butter_."

Rachel's lower lip fuckin' _trembled_. "Why not?" she asked, jutting her chin up, her hands grasping at Santana's blouse; almost pulling it out of her shorts, Santana had to wrap her hands around Rachel's wrists to stop her.

"Why not? Why _not_?" Santana laughed, tossing her head. Grabbing Rachel's hands, she squeezed them in her grip, stepping forward until Rachel had to brace herself against the shelves and push back. "Rache, babe," she lowered her voice, leaning in to whisper into her girlfriend's ear, enjoying the caught breath it elicited, "This is the second step in your PB-Anon. 'No buying more peanut butter to take into our apartment'. I _told_ you things be gettin' serious!"

"But!" Huffing, Rachel stomped her foot on the ground, turning her head to stare longingly at the peanut butter down the aisle, her hands twisting and tensing in Santana's grip, "Its only a _food_. If I eat it in moder - _listen to me_! - moderation, then what's the harm?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "No means no," she whispered, strongly kissing Rachel's cheek and pulling back, "And, I'm gonna remind you, you agreed with this. So no."

Pouting, Rachel sullenly skittered away when Santana let her go. Gazing at the peanut butter again before pulling her gaze away, she took a couple of steps forward to wrap herself around Santana, walking with her down the aisle and into the next one. "It's hard," she whispered.

"I know," Santana allowed, gently kissing Rachel's forehead and lacing their hands together, "But it's for the best. We _really_ don't need you overdosing on peanut butter again."


	213. Chapter 213

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon, who supplied the first sentence. Thanks!

* * *

"My wife is driving me crazy!" Groaning, placing her forehead squarely against the surface of the bar in front of her, Santana hooked her fingers into Quinn and Brittany's shirts. "Save me?" she asked, pouting pretty darn pathetically.

Quinn laughed, nomming the straw in between her lips. "It's your spawn," she shrugged, sucking strongly, "Your fault."

"Yeah," Brittany chimed in even as she took the time to rub up and down Santana's back, "_Your_ baby means _you're_ responsible for welcoming it into the world."

"Even if it's not _here_ yet?" Santana protested.

"Oh, totally, yeah," Brittany answered, almost laughing again as she changed to patting Santana's arm, "Sorry. But that's just how it is."

Santana groaned again. "But - " she tried to object, "It's not - it's not here yet! _Rachel's _not even ready for it!"

"Hah!" Quinn waved her fingers in the air, "Like that matters. It's still yours. Still coming. Still - I'm _telling_ you, Santana! - still _totally_ your responsibility."


	214. Chapter 214

**A/N: **Prompt(ish) from Foxchaos; The Right King of Wrong, by LeAnn Rimes. This is what came to mind when I first listened to the song. Let's just agree that Finn has always made Rachel happy, one way or the other (at least when they were together).

* * *

Rachel doesn't even try to justify it anymore. Sitting in The Lima Bean, chin on her palm as she watches Santana quarrel with the barista, unable to keep her sigh to herself, all she can think about is the last time Santana's eyes had flashed at her like that, how that mouth currently sneering had felt pressed against her mouth. How that hand jutting at the boy making her coffee had curled around her body and slid down. How...

Two coffee cups set down in front of her, and Rachel blinks. "I'm... Sorry," she covers, sitting up, smiling, thanking her fiancé as she pulls the one she can tell holds tea instead of coffee towards herself, "This is perfect."

Finn smiles broadly, reaching forward to take her hand. "_Knew_ I'd gotten it right."

Santana, over his shoulder and far behind, smirks as she picks up her - _finally_ - requested drink.

Watching her, heart thudding in something Rachel doesn't want to think about as the other girl turns to join Brittany at the table across from hers, Rachel can only tear her attention away when Finn leans over the table, brushing his lips along hers as his hand cups her cheek.

Kissing him back, Rachel gives him her all.

Because, she knows, giving in, finally giving in for the nth time after she and Santana had ended their - - _thing_...

Anything else than how happy Finn makes her will never be hers again.


	215. Chapter 215

**A/N: **Based on this line: If you're feeling down, I'll go down on you. Thanks!

* * *

Rachel stared at Santana. "_What_?"

Rolling her eyes, Santana crossed her arms. "You heard me."

"No. What I heard was... I don't know, some kind of _line_? Santana." Shaking her head, Rachel tilted it, chin up, as if she wasn't sure she should look Santana head-on. "I thought we were past those."

Santana's jaw momentarily tightened. "Rachel," she forced out strongly, dropping her arms so she could take a step forward, hands falling to curl around Rachel's hips, pulling her closer; her breath mingled with Rachel's, "Exercising gives you endorphins, right? And endorphins make you happy."

Rachel's lips quirked up. Her hands settled softly onto Santana's. "So now you're quoting one of my favorite movies back at me?"

Smirking, Santana pressed her lips to Rachel's forehead. "Don't you agree," she drew back, meeting Rachel's gaze, "That making you cum makes your body work?"

Rachel bit her lower lip, her eyelashes fluttering as she studied how dark Santana's eyes had become.

"And that working your body means you're exercising? _Baby_." Santana's mouth brushed along Rachel's, and she moved her hands to her back to pull Rachel tighter into herself. "Let me make you happy. Let me..." Her voice dropped, becoming darkly cajoling, tongue flickering out to lick along Rachel's lower lip, "_Eat you to a screaming orgasm_."

Swallowing, Rachel moved her chin forward to kiss Santana back. Her cheeks pinkened even as her forehead pressed into Santana's.

She knew when she was weak.

When she was losing.

"...Okay."


	216. Chapter 216

**A/N: **Silly prompt prompt #1 from comfortablyobsessed; Santana teaching Rachel how to drive. Thanks!

* * *

"So you don't have to drive stick."

"No, I'm very capable of driving automatic. Isn't that easier?"

"That's not what I asked," Santana smirked. Placing her hand onto Rachel's over the shift lever, she grinned at Rachel's frown. "You've already learned how to turn and follow the lights - just gotta learn how hard to press the gas and brake, right?"

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Yes...?"

Santana patted Rachel's hand, making sure to scratch her fingernails lightly along Rachel's knuckles as she pulled away, settling her sunglasses onto her face as she sat back in her seat. A smirk stretched across her face. "Wanky."


	217. Chapter 217

**A/N: **Prompt from pezberrykisses; Rachel got jealous cause someone was eyeing her girl, so she makes sure Santana knows she is hers. Even if this is not _exactly_ what was asked for, suggestively wise, I still like this. Thanks!

* * *

On the Monday morning after the preliminaries for competitive cheerleading, Santana wasn't surprised to see Rachel waiting for her at her locker with a Sharpie in hand. Stopping before she reached her completely, Santana crossed her arms and quirked her eyebrows up, "No."

"No?" Rachel blinked. "Santana."

"No." Santana shook her head. Pushing past the smaller girl to open her locker, she gave her a somewhat amused smile. "I'm not going to let you do what you want to do."

Huffing, Rachel jabbed her Sharpie into her own arm as she reflexively crossed them in response and mimicry. "I just want - "

"You just want to write your name on me," Santana interrupted, the door of her locker clanging into the one next to it as she swung it open. "Got an arm already picked out?" she mused, pulling her books out, "Or maybe you want to go ultra suggestive and want in on my thighs?"

"_Santana_."

"_Rachel_." Mocking her softly, Santana zipped her backpack up before running her hand over her ponytailed hair, turning to face Rachel directly, "I know you still think that skank from Harding High's going to try something, but for Jesus' sake." She closed her locker, pushing her lock closed and spinning the combination, "Why can't you trust _me_? It's not even close to when we're going to leave for our next meet this afternoon, either, anyway, so you'd just have to reapply it, which is stupid because everyone here already knows we're together. And who says Sue would even allow it?"

Rachel opened her mouth, knuckles white around the marker. "I just…"

Santana waited. She couldn't stop her lips from curving up.

Sagging, Rachel dropped her chin to her chest. "I'm sorry," she apologized, shaking her head, self-consciously running her hand through her hair before pushing the Sharpie into the pocket of her jacket, "I guess I was just still overreacting from last week."

"Yeah, not gonna deny that it's hot that you feel the need to mark me, but baby." Santana slid her hands around Rachel's waist, tugging her forward, leaning in to kiss her strongly, possessively, "Like I'm gonna be lookin' for anyone else." Pushing their lips together again, slipping her tongue out to meet Rachel's, her hands stroked the fabric of her jacket as they traveled up her back to pull her closer. "Are you going to be there?" she asked as she pulled back, keeping her hands in place.

Rachel's hands tightened on Santana's shoulders. "Well," she answered, eyelashes fluttering as she looked up to meet Santana's eyes, "Seeing as you're my girlfriend, and I have a long history of supporting those I love's passions…" Her teeth bit into her lower lip, unable to stop herself from smiling, "You know I'll be there."

"Oh god. Wait. _No_."

"Oh _yes_," Rachel chided, her smile splitting into a wide grin, "Team Santana's _definitely_ going to make its presence known!

"In fact," she continued, playfully tapping Santana's shoulders, leaning in to kiss Santana's adorable pout away, "I'm pulling out _all_ of the stops. Signs and cheers and _everything_."


	218. Chapter 218

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; magic. Thanks!

* * *

"Oh my god no, we are _not _going to have that rent-a-magician anywhere _near _us or our family _ever_ again! I'm _still _washing the bloodstains out of my shirt!"

"Yes, yes," Rachel rolled her eyes at her wife, a faint smile on her lips, "If you had been listening to me, you would have heard that I had no intention of hiring that drunken miscreant ever again. I was just suggesting that, now that Jonah's seventh birthday is coming up, maybe his request for a magician may be met with _possible_, seeing as I'm sure more, _better _magicians have probably entered the job market since Alejandro's fifth birthday party. It _has _been three years, you know, and - "

Groaning, Santana not-so-gently clapped her hands on either side of Rachel's face. "Quinn interviews them first."

Rachel grinned at her. Closing her eyes and puckering her lips until Santana gave in and kissed her, she agreed.

Quinn was, after all, the one who was best equipped to sue the party company if needed.


	219. Chapter 219

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon, who supplied the first two sentence. Thanks!

* * *

"Why does it have to be _that_, though?"

"I thought it would be fun."

Santana stares at Rachel. "You thought..." She stops. It's like her throat can't make the necessary movements to facilitate speech, no matter how hard her jaw or tongue is working.

Looking back at her, hands clenching and opening reflexively in front of her stomach, Rachel waits for her girlfriend's response. She really should have seen this coming.

Finally, holding up one finger, Santana takes a seat at the dinner table. Her eyes don't waver from the mantle over the fireplace as she states, almost tonelessly, "The Disney Cruise."

"Yes." Rachel nods.

"The Disney Cruise."

Rachel barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. At least Santana is talking again. "Repeating it won't make it go away," she says softly, walking over. Pushing herself between Santana and the table, she takes a seat on the unresisting woman, laying her arm gently onto her shoulders, legs slightly curling around Santana's knee and thigh. "I've already put down the down payment."

Santana's eyebrow twitches, and a second later, Rachel's thumb smooths it down.

"You'll have fun," Rachel states confidently.

Santana finally looks at her. Her eyes are dark and carefully disdainful. "I will?" Her hands brush up Rachel's spine, making her shiver, and Rachel presses a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.

"You will."

"How?"

Shrugging thin shoulders, Rachel leans in and kisses Santana properly, "Singing."

Opening her eyes as Rachel draws away, one corner of Santana's lips quirk up. Her arms tighten around Rachel's back, and she gives Rachel a direct look. "Singing."

Smiling broadly, Rachel kisses her again. "And sex."

"Sex?"

"Lots of sex."

"Hmm."

Openly rolling her eyes at the noncommittal response, Rachel moves in again, this time bypassing her lips to nuzzle Santana's neck instead, dragging the tip of her nose up to nibble on her earlobe. It's her turn to make Santana shiver, and she does so by whispering lowly, promisingly, into her ear, "_Lots_ of sex."

When Santana groans, grumbling before pulling Rachel in for her first reciprocated kiss of the past few minutes, even without verbally agreeing at that point, Rachel knows she's got her. They'll just finish their talk later.


	220. Chapter 220

**A/N: **Prompt from an anon; Fapezberry, falling in love with their best friend's partner AU. Thanks!

* * *

It was Brittany who noticed first. Tilting her head, eyes narrowing as she watched Santana's friend and girlfriend across the room, she 'hmmed' just as Santana took a seat next to her. Acknowledging Santana's curious, "What?" she shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Laughing, Santana bumped her friend's shoulder with her own. "B."

Brittany stuck her tongue out at her. "It's nothing until it isn't," she shook her head, hopping down from the washing machine to sweep up the giant bottle of vodka either Santana or Quinn had brought over, "But that's fine. For now. Where's the soda?"

Left staring at the blonde, Santana finally shook her head, deciding she didn't have to pry. "The kitchen. As always." She laughed again when Brittany stuck her tongue out at her for the second time.

* * *

What Brittany had noticed, however, wasn't made clear for a while yet. Santana, happily in a relationship with Quinn, basking in everything the other girl gave her, only barely focused on strengthening a friendship with her girlfriend's best friend. Sure, Rachel was in the same after school club as they were, but it didn't mean Santana was going to immediately jump into getting to know her better.

Rachel was Quinn's best friend. Didn't mean Rachel and Santana had to be best friends, even if Quinn and Santana's best friend, Brittany, were. That's just how it was.

Rachel and Santana...? Hah! They just didn't click like that. Like, seriously. Santana only paid attention to her when she was around - basically, only when she had to. The girl was ambitious and forgetful on Santana's radar, pretty much. She had Quinn and Brittany. Why try to cultivate anything else? It wasn't like Rachel was popular enough to _give_ her anything.

Only, Quinn didn't see it that way.

Quinn _loved_ Rachel. She was her closest friend. She figured that, _loving_ Santana as she did as well, Santana and Rachel should get as close as Quinn and Brittany were. That way, they could spend time together without it being weird or awkward - even if it took an average of spending two nights a week at each others' houses during their junior year.

So, again, finally giving in, letting Rachel's weird hobbit existence around her person more times than would ever have originally happened without Quinn's involvement, Santana started... Noticing something.

Rachel was in love with Quinn.

Only, when Santana brought it up with Quinn, barely holding back her anger as her arms tightened around her girlfriend as her voice became harsher, Quinn laughed it off.

"In love with _me_?" Quinn shook her head, lightly tapping Santana's cheek before kissing her deeply, lovingly, "Baby, she's in love with Finn."

Giving in again, staring back at her girlfriend, Santana growled under her breath but nodded. Fine. At least Quinn didn't know - or _care_ enough. That just meant Santana would have to pay more attention to Rachel.

So she did.

A side effect of this, perhaps accidentally, was that Santana and Rachel spent more time together. Alone, with Quinn, or Brittany, or even with both Quinn and Brittany, it didn't matter. Santana watched the younger girl. Sure, she didn't think Rachel really _was_ a threat - yeah, right - but keep your enemies closer or all that shit, right?

Only...

It was Brittany who finally brought it up. "You know," the blonde started, suddenly, stretching under the rare heat of the Ohio summer sun, resting between cars at the Cheerio Car Wash, "Rachel's attracted to you too."

"_What_?" Santana laughed, harshly, almost barking as she wiped her forehead with her forearm, getting rid of the sweat caused from the car they'd just finished, "It's Quinn she wants."

"Maybe in the beginning." Shrugging, Brittany gave Santana a lazy, long look, "But you've gotten to know her enough now. She likes you. A lot."

Opening her mouth, Santana's throat closed when she realized she really wasn't sure she _could_ refute Brittany's claim. "Shut up," she muttered, flicking soap suds at her best friend, "The next car's here."

Brittany only hummed and made a face at Santana, giving her a pointed look when, hours later, Rachel's pink face didn't end after she'd finished speaking to Quinn in her bathing suit, the color and stuttering continuing on past seeing and greeting Santana, similarly clothed as well.

Setting her jaw, waving a sharp goodbye to the girl even as she relaxed into Quinn's hug as Rachel drove away, Santana wasn't sure what she thought about that.

Which, fuck.

* * *

Two months later, after spending time with Quinn, and Rachel, and Quinn and Rachel, and Quinn and Rachel and Brittany, Santana was barely able to keep anything straight or structured in her head anymore.

In her biased eyes, Quinn and Rachel touched more. Didn't want to part. Drifted closer together than before.

In her biased eyes, Quinn spent more time gazing at Rachel. Spent more time talking to her. Spent more time talking _about_ her.

In her biased eyes, Rachel gravitated towards _her_, Santana, more. Touched and spoke and paid more attention to her. Almost _begged_ Santana to pull her in and keep her close.

In her biased eyes, feeling sick, Santana realized she was guilty of the same.

Which, oh.

* * *

Santana met Brittany's eyes at the party just before their senior year. Three drinks clutched in her hands as she prepared to offer the extra two to Rachel and Quinn sitting pressed against each other on Puck's ratty couch, she managed a small, almost resigned, chagrined nod of her head

She got it now.

Stepping up, brushing past her with a broad smile lifting her lips, Brittany laughed at the same time Santana almost allowed a laugh of her own to escape. Her hand reaching out to squeeze Santana's upper arm, she offered the other girl a giant, smug smile, and disappeared into the party at the same time Santana slid into the free space between her two girls.

Her job, however brief it was, was done.


	221. Chapter 221

**A/N: **For dantanchel, who had expressed the want for a Welcome to New York Pezberry duet thingie. :D Wow, it's my first song-fic in _ages_.  
**A/N2: **I surely do _not _own Welcome to New York or Taylor Swift. As if.

* * *

They're at the diner. Between shifts, Rachel near the kitchen while Santana's hanging out just inside the door leading into establishment. Only barely a month since Santana's been NYC, it's not like everything's _new_, anymore; it's just barely new with a side of _can they make this friendship work_?

Someone approaches the jukebox. Barely paying attention, Santana can't help but look up at the first music approach. She can't believe…

Rachel grins. Who says Taylor Swift' not a "real" artist? Unbidden, her eyes meet Santana's across the diner, and it's her voice who first joins in.

"Walking through a crowd, the village is aglow  
Kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats"

Prancing forward, bringing her hands up in a "come hither" motion, Rachel doesn't miss a beat. She's a performer, even if her costar isn't clued in yet.

"Everybody here wanted something more  
Searching for a sound we hadn't heard before  
And it said"

Santana rolls her eyes. Still, unable to keep an amused smirk from her lips, she slides forward and up, moving with the rhythm. The smaller girl looks too _expectant _to refuse, at least for now.

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York"

Meeting each other in the middle of the restaurant, between the tables and pretty much in the performance space, Rachel and Santana smile unabashedly at each other.

Spinning and offering her hand, Rachel does a fancy skip and slide of her feet she'd just learned in class. Watching her, eyebrows up, Santana takes a moment only to make sure she gets what Rachel's doing, and joins in; their voices meld.

"It's a new soundtrack  
I could dance to this beat, beat  
Forevermore  
The lights are so bright  
But they never blind me, me"

Hands meeting, Santana's fingers curl around Rachel's and Rachel's waist, barely grasping at her uniform fabric before they're both dancing again, doing a kind of faux-waltz. The applause and cheers from the patrons is intoxicating.

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York"

Splitting away just as the latest "York" passes her lips, Santana raises her arms above her head, adopting some of stripper Sam's moves for herself as her eyes meet Rachel's squarely. Maybe she means more with the following lyrics than she initially meant to share.

"When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors  
Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer"

Rachel tilts her head. Eyes steady as she watches her partner take over the song, she can't help but join in again, making sure Santana can see her as they both do their own dance moves. They sound so good together, after all, and _these lyrics_…

"Everybody here was someone else before  
And you can want who you want  
Boys and boys and girls and girls"

They spin back together again, barely taking notice of the rest of the staff joining in and dancing around them. They're not the only ones performing anymore, but it's almost like they are.

Rachel's hand is small and warm in Santana's as more voices chime in.

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York"

Rachel tugs away. A fellow waiter, handsome and dark and tall steps into her space, and she allows him to artfully swing her into a small jump and performance in the short pause between lines. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Santana doing the same.

Still, as the next part of the chorus starts, Santana finds her visually, and they mirror each other again.

"It's a new soundtrack  
I could dance to this beat, beat  
Forevermore  
The lights are so bright  
But they never blind me, me"

Their hands meet again. Both suck in a deep breath, almost choking as chests and hips knock and press against each other; the next part is sung staring at each other.

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York"

Rachel takes point again, sweeping away to make a dramatic step forward towards Santana, who she'd just left. Her hands are close to her chest, and she's singing _more_ than she'd anticipated to. She can't believe what she's expressing.

"Like any great love, it keeps you guessing  
Like any real love, it's ever-changing"

Santana's voice rises and meets Rachel's, taking over. Her arms are up and tight, her heart pounding as Rachel _stops_, staring at her.

She nods kinetically. Somehow, she means what she's saying.

"Like any true love, it drives you crazy  
But you know you wouldn't change anything, anything, anything"

Their voices join again as they step forward again. Their hands grasp each other's again.

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York

"Welcome to New York  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York  
Welcome to New York"

Santana steps back, giving a quick bob of her head to let Rachel know she can take the lead again.

Smiling at her, looking up and down and around, studying Santana without being able to help it, Rachel does so, voice rising.

"It's a new soundtrack  
I could dance to this beat  
The lights are so bright  
But they never blind me  
Welcome to New York"

Santana almost laughs when Rachel _deigns _to let her take over again. Chucking her hand under Rachel's chin, her smirk curls up her lips.

"New soundtrack  
It's been waiting for you  
Welcome to New York"

They dance together again, voices blending, barely paying attention to the burgeoning crescendo of the other waiters and waitresses twirling and dancing around them.

Their fingers snag at each other, bodies touching again.

"The lights are so bright  
But they never blind me"

Rachel looks up, her hair falling past her shoulders as she meets Santana's gaze.

"Welcome to New York"

Santana quirks her eyebrows, arm snaking around Rachel's waist to pull her closer. Rachel's hands splay along Santana's collar bone.

"So bright, they never blind me"

It's not just singing together anymore.

"Welcome to New York"

It's not just dancing together anymore.

"Welcome to New York"

It's something _more _together, forevermore.


End file.
